


Keep Your Secrets Close to your Chest

by frankiesin



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abortion, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abortion, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 55,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: Ryan Ross doesn't want to have to work with anyone for this creative writing project. He'd rather just keep to himself, but this Dallon Weekes guy he's partnered with isn't too bad.Also, Spencer's got a boyfriend and a girlfriend, which isn't fair because Ryan doesn't have either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, I'm starting something again. Help. 
> 
> It's going to be Ryan/Dallon with some background Spencer/Brendon/Linda because I'm Jeff and I can make as many rarepairs as I want. 
> 
> I don't know what I'm doing. People need to stop leaving me alone with my ideas because then I start another AU when I've already got ten.

Ryan’s life was going fine until Spencer got a boyfriend. It wasn’t that Ryan was jealous (he was a little jealous, because Spencer was a year younger than him and it just wasn’t fair). It was just that Spencer’s boyfriend was over all of the time, and Ryan felt like he was third-wheeling. It was okay when they were out getting dinner at the cafeteria, or hanging out in the library. It only sucked when the three of them were in Spencer and Ryan’s dorm room together, because Ryan could tell that they wanted him to leave. 

 

Ryan left, usually. He had a chair in the study room reserved for him. It was nice. He just wished that Spencer could go over to Brendon’s room for once, and not the other way around. 

 

Spencer and Ryan started dating in October, and survived winter break. It wasn’t any better when everyone came back from break, though. Something must have come over the two of them while they were separated, because Ryan started getting a lot of “hey, Brendon’s coming over and we need the room, can you be somewhere else for like an hour or two” texts from Spencer. Ryan wouldn’t mind, except that one of his classes involved partner projects and another involved group project. Ryan was spending way too much time dealing with other people when he needed to be working on his own assignments. 

 

Still, he responded with “yeah, sure” every time Spencer texted him. Good for Spencer, getting laid on the regular. 

 

Ryan was thinking about that, and how he’d seen Brendon earlier with a hickey on his neck, and how weird that was, when he came into his creative writing class. It was an intro to creative writing class, and Ryan was only taking it because it would help get him enough credit hours for his major. 

 

Ryan was pretty sure he was the best writer in the class, but that didn't matter, because he still had to get partnered up with someone so that the class could learn how to revise and think critically. Or whatever bullshit the professor was using to make people work together. 

 

He sat down next to a tall guy with messy brown hair and soft blue eyes. He looked tired, but it was also two in the afternoon and the classroom was stuffy. Ryan pulled out his spiral notebook and a pen and acted like he was doing something interesting. Really, he was just writing the same lyrics over and over again. It was better than talking to people, especially people he didn’t know well.

 

“Do you know who you’re partnering with for this project?” The guy beside Ryan asked. Ryan should have put in earbuds. 

 

He looked up. “Um, no. Why?”

 

“I don’t know,” the guy said. He rubbed at his neck. Objectively speaking, he was pretty cute. The poem he’d submitted for the class workshop had been unnecessarily heterosexual, though, so Ryan wasn’t even going to consider it. “I thought you had a cool writing style, and I liked the poem you submitted in the workshop. I thought maybe we could be partners?”

 

Ryan considered it. Even though the poem had been really straight, it had still been good. He shrugged. “I guess. I’m not really good with straight people’s writing, though. I can’t relate to it.”

 

The guy lowered his voice. “I’m not straight. I’m just not super out about it.”

 

Ryan felt like an idiot, and he felt his face heat up. He turned away for a moment to cover it, and closed his notebook. “Oh. Okay, I’m an ass.”

 

“It’s fine,” the guy said. He was smiling when Ryan turned around. He had a really nice smile. Somewhere, Spencer was laughing and calling Ryan a sappy romantic. The guy ran his hand through his hair, twisting it with his fingers. “I’m Dallon, by the way. In case you forgot my name like you did with Lacie last Tuesday.”

 

“I remembered,” Ryan said, blatantly lying. “And I’m Ryan, in case you forgot.”

 

“You’re hard to forget,” Dallon said. Ryan stared blankly at him. Was Dallon flirting, or was Ryan just desperate? Dallon rubbed at the back of his neck. “I meant, your writing. You’ve got a really distinct voice. It’s, um, I really like the stuff you write. It’s different from everyone else’s, in a good way.”

 

“I’m openly gay and angry, dude, of course it’s different.”

 

“Right,” Dallon said. He turned away from Ryan, and Ryan went back to writing the same lyrics over again. He switched to a different song, though, because this one wasn’t working and Ryan didn’t want to think about anything for the next few hours. 

 

Ryan’s back was to the windows, but as he and Dallon waited for the class to start, he heard rain pounding down. Ryan frowned. He hadn’t brought a jacket, but this was his last class of the day so he could always just stay in the building until the rain died down a bit. Or he could just suffer through the rain all the way back to his dorm and hope that Brendon wasn’t there so that he could complain about being soaked to Spencer.

 

The rain didn’t stop at all during the class. It was hard, and loud, and the wind outside was howling as well. Ryan glanced over his shoulder about five minutes before the class was supposed to end, just to see if maybe the noise was from the wind instead, but no. Rain was still pouring down. The few people who were outside looked miserable. 

 

“Alright, before I let you all go, remember that you need to have chosen your editing partner by the end of class Thursday, because I’ll be handing out your first assignment on that day,” the professor said. People were already putting their things in their bags and getting ready to leave. “If you don’t have a partner, I’ll pick one for you, but this is not a project you can do on your own.”

 

She looked over at Ryan when she said that part, like she knew that Ryan hated group work. She was right, and he did, but the joke was on her because he already had a partner. Admittedly, Ryan knew absolutely nothing about Dallon, but he was better than someone random, and if Ryan remembered correctly, his poem hadn’t referenced God or religion at all. Too many people in this class were religious. Ryan was tired of hearing Christians talk about how much they loved God and were proud of their religion. 

 

It wasn’t like Christians were ever attacked for being Christian. Ryan couldn’t imagine how much these people would whine if they were gay instead.  _ That _ was what actual oppression felt like.

 

“Hey, so I know it’s still raining, but do you want to grab coffee or something and wait it out?” Dallon asked as he and Ryan were leaving the classroom. Ryan didn’t know what this guy’s deal was. Just because they were working together didn’t mean they had to be friends. Just because they were both two gays in a heterosexual world didn't mean that they had to be friends either, but Ryan did want coffee and he didn’t want to have to walk all the way back to his and Spencer’s dorm in the rain. 

 

He shrugged. “Sure. Do you have an umbrella or anything, or are we both going to get soaked?”

 

“Yeah, I left it by the door,” Dallon said, pulling on his backpack straps. Ryan followed Dallon out of the building, sending a quick text to Spencer to let him know that he hadn’t drowned and was getting coffee. He didn’t mention that he was getting it with someone else. He didn’t want Spencer to think that Ryan and Dallon were actually friends and not just school project partners. 

 

They had to walk closely together so that they wouldn’t end up soaked. Dallon was ridiculously tall, and Ryan wasn’t even that short. Ryan found himself on his toes, trying not to seem that short in comparison to Dallon. He didn’t have to act tall, though. Dallon’s opinion of Ryan didn’t matter. They would just be partners for this project, and at the end of the semester Dallon would forget about Ryan and Ryan would go back to having only a few friends, Dallon not included.

 

The campus Starbucks was predictably crowded. Dallon and Ryan got in line anyway, not really talking to each other. Ryan looked around, hoping that there would be an open table somewhere on the main floor. He knew that there were six whole floors in the library and that one of them would have an empty spot for Dallon and Ryan to sit, but Ryan was hoping that they’d be able to stay on the main floor. 

 

“I forgot how crowded this place gets,” Dallon said. “Maybe this wasn’t the best place to go for coffee.”

 

“Well, we’re in line now,” Ryan said. “But if we can’t find anywhere we can just sit on the floor or something. It’s college. It’s not like anyone is going to care that much.”

 

“Sounds good,” Dallon said. They fell silent again until they got up to the counter, where Dallon ordered first and then Ryan. They paid for their own drinks. There were about ten people waiting in front of them, so Dallon asked Ryan for his phone number and then went in search of a pair of seats for them. Dallon texted Ryan with a location a few minutes later, and then Dallon and Ryan’s drinks came up. 

 

Ryan grabbed both drinks and headed to the place that Dallon had found. It was half of a table, with three sorority girls at the other end. It wasn’t the worst place to try to get to know someone. Ryan would have preferred somewhere more secluded in case Dallon turned out to be a really weird person and Ryan needed to get out quickly. 

 

“It was the best I could find, sorry,” Dallon said. 

 

Ryan handed him his coffee. “It’s okay. It could be worse, probably.”

 

Dallon smiled. He had a really pretty smile. Ryan realised he needed to get laid if he was starting to swoon over his writing partner. It wouldn’t be hard to do. Ryan was (somewhat) attractive, and there was a good number of people in the area that Ryan was willing to sleep with. 

 

Ryan sat down across from him and took a sip from his coffee even though he knew it was going to be too hot. “So, what kind of stuff do you do when you’re not in writing class?”

 

“I’m in a band,” Dallon said. “Kind of. It was more of a high school thing, but we never actually ended it so I use it more as a fun fact than an actual point on my resume. I also draw, sometimes. Usually comics and fanart and stuff like that.”

 

“Cool,” Ryan said. He meant it. He wasn’t super into comics, but it was interesting that Dallon could draw. Theoretically. Ryan had obviously never seen any of Dallon’s art, so the guy could have been lying. “Um, I’m not that talented. Most of what I do is write and go see a bunch of concerts. I can play guitar, and at one point I wanted to be in a band but then my dad died and I had to pay for the funeral.”

 

“Oh,” Dallon said. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Ryan shrugged. “I didn’t really like him.”

 

“I picked that up from the things you wrote,” Dallon said. “No offense to the other people in our class, but I don’t think they give you enough credit for what you do. You’re bearing your soul to a bunch of strangers, and everyone keeps telling you to be nicer about it.”

 

Ryan shrugged. “I’m used to it. I’m not a nice person.”

 

“You don’t have to be,” Dallon said. “I wish I could be more honest in my writing. There are a lot of things I’ve never written down before.”

 

“You can always lie and say it’s about someone else,” Ryan said. He knew that wouldn’t work, though. They had to read their writing out loud in class, and if Dallon’s voice wavered when he was talking about his personal secrets, everyone would know. Ryan couldn’t hide his emotions when he read stuff out loud. He didn’t see why Dallon would be able to, unless Dallon had secret powers.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, while writing this: Can I make Ryan trans? Nothing says he's cis? Cool. Ryan is a trans guy now fuck yeah.
> 
> Listen, guys, this is actually how trans characters happen in my writing. I just... make them trans. Boom. Also, I might be making Brendon NB in later chapters, who knows.

Spencer wanted to talk to Ryan about something. He’d texted Ryan, earlier, and Ryan had ignored the text because he was trying to avoid it. There was no reason to ignore Spencer, because Spencer was his best friend and they could talk about anything. Ryan just hated texts that started with  _ hey can I ask you something _ . He’d gotten a similar text from Spencer’s mom when his dad died, and then another one from his own mom after the funeral, when she wanted to know what she’d gotten in the will.

 

Ryan’s dad had died only with hospital bills empty pill bottles, and a bunch of half-finished liquor. 

 

He was in the library, staring at his laptop screen and note reading anything that was on there. He didn’t want to read this story. It was boring. It didn’t interest him. His phone was still going off, though, as Spencer’s texts became more and more frantic. Ryan let out a sigh and closed his laptop, shoving it back into his bag before unlocking his phone and texting Spencer back, saying he’d be there in about fifteen minutes.

 

When Ryan got back, Spencer was sitting on his bed and looking super nervous. Ryan dropped his bag and pulled out his desk chair, turning it around so that he was sitting with one leg on either side of the chair. He leaned his chin on his hands. “What’s up?”

 

“Okay, so, theoretically, say that I was interested in dating someone else but I didn’t want to stop dating Brendon,” Spencer blurted out. Ryan wondered if he’d actually been holding his breath. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Not, like, in a cheating way, but in a polyamory way. I want to date both of them, but I don’t want to make Brendon think that I don’t like him anymore or that I like her more than him or anything like that.”

 

“Spence, I have never had a healthy relationship in my life,” Ryan said. 

 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Wow, didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

 

“I meant romantic relationships, asshole,” Ryan said. Ryan had dated some in high school, mostly girls, but none of them had ended too well. Part of that was because Ryan was dealing with dysphoria and didn’t realise it, and part of it was because he was a shitty girlfriend. He wasn’t even a girl, he just hadn’t known it at the time. Ryan pressed his chest against the chair, like that would somehow make it flatter. “But, if you really want advice from me--”

 

“I do.”

 

“--then I’d suggest you get Brendon alone and explain everything,” Ryan said. “Make it clear that you still like him, or love him or whatever, and that this isn’t you losing interest and letting him go gently. This is just you wanting to expand their relationship.”

 

“For someone who’s bad with relationships, you’re pretty good with advice,” Spencer said. Ryan shrugged it off, because he always shrugged things off. He didn’t think he was all that great with relationship advice. He definitely knew what  _ not _ to do in a relationship. 

 

“Wanna grab dinner?” Ryan asked, wanting to change the subject. 

 

“Mind if Brendon comes?” Spencer asked, because it was Brendon and at this point it was just weird for him and Spencer to not be hanging out with each other. 

 

Ryan considered it for a moment. He didn’t want to be the third wheel again, but he didn’t want to make Spencer choose between his best friend and his boyfriend, especially over something as simple as dinner. He tapped one of his fingers against his arm. “Can we see if anyone else wants to join us?”

 

“Do we have other friends besides Brendon and Jon though?” Spencer said. “I know you’ve got your weird hipster friends, and I’ve got some other friends too, but, like, who else do we both know?”

 

“No one, probably,” Ryan said. He considered inviting Dallon. He didn’t even know if Dallon had a meal plan, though, and they would probably be going to the cafeteria. Ryan swallowed. “Text Jon and Brendon. Is it okay if I ask a guy from my creative writing class to join us?”

 

“I thought you hated everyone in that class,” Spencer said. 

 

“This guy’s okay,” Ryan said. He didn’t blush, because he wasn’t getting a crush on Dallon from creative writing. That would just be pathetic. Ryan barely knew him, and they’d only had two conversations outside of class. The first one was over coffee, and it was actually deep and they got to know each other a little, but the second was just in passing between classes. It didn’t really count as bonding or friendship or whatever. Ryan ran his hand through his bangs. “He’s my partner for this assignment, and he’s actually pretty interesting even though he writes poetry about pretty girls he sees in passing.”

 

Spencer wrinkled his nose. “That sounds gross and heterosexual.”

 

“It’s not gross, I promise,” Ryan said. “He, like, actually appreciates them and the poem was mostly just him wondering what kind of person she was outside of the few moments he saw her in line for Starbucks. It’s not that deep.”

 

“Sure,” Spencer said. “You can invite your weird writing friend. I’ll text our actual friends and see if they want to go to Fresh Food with us.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes and sent a text to Dallon asking about dinner. As soon as he did it, he started to regret his actions. Not because he didn’t want to hang out with Dallon (he liked Dallon enough from their two interactions), but because he was worried that his friends would scare Dallon off or that they wouldn’t all get along. 

 

_ sorry i already got dinner, but thnks for the offer :) _

 

Ryan stared down at his phone, somewhere between relieved and upset that Dallon had turned him down. But it wasn’t really getting turned down, since Dallon had already had food. It was just a little weird that he’d already eaten, considering that it was five thirty. Then again, Ryan and Spencer were about to go get food, so maybe it wasn’t that weird. College schedules were fucked up anyway.

 

“Did you get a response?” Spencer asked. 

 

Ryan looked up from his phone. “Uh, he already got food. So, no. Are Brendon and Jon coming?”

 

“Yeah, they’re meeting us there,” Spencer said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I talked about this in the most recent nohic update but my laptop charger isn't working and I'm trying not to panic. 
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter, since it's finished and I might have to revert back to my old laptop which doesn't connect to wifi again (Yikes) until I can figure out what's wrong with this guy. 
> 
> This is going to be a slow burn because the boys are dumb.

Ryan was bored. It was cold again, after three days of warmth, and he was doing laundry because he hadn’t cleaned any of his long-sleeved shirts in about a month. It was March. Ryan thought the cold was over. 

 

Ryan was, apparently, wrong. He was sitting on a washing machine, hunched over and working on some poetry. Ryan liked poetry more than short stories, because he didn’t have to make people up when he was writing poetry. He could write about real shit, but just layer it in metaphors and pretty language so that no one knew what he was talking about. 

 

_ but if i let you into my head  _

_ the thoughts i have the person i’ve become _

_ would you even cry at the right times _

_ at the sorrows i have made myself survive _

_ or would you see HE and just write me off as wrong _

 

His phone buzzed against his thigh. Ryan sighed, hoping it wasn’t an emergency but also hoping it was so he could get out of the fucking laundry room, and pulled it out.

 

_ Dallon: hey this is random but whats ur opinion on womens bsktball _

 

Ryan thought about it for a moment. Basketball wasn’t a sport he cared about (because he didn’t care about any sports, except for the two years that Spencer had done track, and then he pretended to care because it was Spencer and he wanted to support his best friend. Basketball, was, however, a lot more interesting than laundry.

 

_ Ryan: when is it i’m doing laundry _

_ Ryan: also your typing is atrocious _

 

_ Dallon: im only a good writer _

_ Dallon: cant typ fr shit _

 

_ Ryan: ever heard of vowels? _

 

_ Dallon: dont kno her sry _

_ Dallon: but its n like an hr wnt me to come do laundry w u _

 

Ryan smiled without knowing why, and replied with an affirmative. Dallon wasn’t the worst company. He might even be able to make basketball fun, somehow. Ryan was willing to give him the chance. 

 

Dallon showed up about ten minutes later. Ryan decided to be a good person for once and asked Dallon about basketball, since Dallon seemed to care. Dallon spent the rest of the wash cycle (and then the drying time) explaining how basketball worked, and even though Ryan was still pretty clueless, he found himself interested in what Dallon was saying. 

 

Apparently Dallon’s friend Breezy was on the team, and he tried to go to all the games to support and embarrass her from the stands. “It gets kind of boring, though, up there on my own. And I figured you wouldn’t be doing much, since you don’t seem like the Thursday party type, so I texted you.”

 

“I kind of hate parties, to be honest,” Ryan said. “I got invited to three grad parties--ever--and the only one I went to was Spencer’s. He’s not even the same year as me, I just went because his mom makes the best Mac and Cheese ever and I like his house better than my own.”

 

“You’re probably going to hate me for this, but I don’t actually like Mac and Cheese,” Dallon said. He made a face. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s all cheesy and gross.”

 

“I’m guessing you’ve only ever had Kraft Mac and Cheese,” Ryan said. He looked away from Dallon, at the road they were walking along. He could walk into it, really, but he didn’t want to traumatise Dallon. Dallon seemed like an okay guy. Ryan didn’t want him to witness an attempted suicide. Worse, he didn’t want Dallon to try and stop Ryan, because then Ryan would have to try and explain what he’d been doing, and Ryan never had an explanation.

 

It was just a deep, never-fading hollow, and any time he tried to talk about it--really talk about it, not just use poetry--he sounded like he was in a 2007 emo music video. Talking about his feelings made Ryan want to puke. Or at least pick at his skin until he was bleeding and there was something other than his words to talk about.

 

Dallon’s hand was on his shoulder, suddenly. Ryan jumped. Dallon looked down at him, concern on his face. “Are you okay? You spaced out for a good minute while we were walking.”

 

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts,” Ryan said. “I’m kind of a scatterbrain, sometimes.”

 

“It’s okay,” Dallon said. “We’ve all got our vices. We’re here, by the way. You might want to get out your ID unless you want to pay to watch a basketball game.”

 

“I’d rather not,” Ryan said. He pulled out his wallet, carefully turning his ID away from Dallon so that he couldn’t see the name on it.  _ Chelsea Jacqueline Ross _ . That wasn’t Ryan. Ryan was the kid who’d stolen his dad’s name out of spite, but only the middle name, because he didn’t want anyone other than his dad to know what he was doing. Ryan did a lot of things out of spite. He had a lot of spite in him. 

 

They got through without anyone calling Ryan a girl, which was a miracle in itself. So far, Dallon was treating Ryan like he was any other guy, but Ryan wasn’t getting his hopes up. Cis guys always ended up being the same. Brendon, Spencer, and Jon were just lucky exceptions, which was why Ryan trusted them. 

 

“Where do we sit?” Ryan asked, trailing behind Dallon. “Also, do they have food here because I just realised I haven’t eaten, like, at all today and I might, like, die or something.”

 

Dallon stared at him for a moment, and Ryan remembered:  _ neurotypical, right. I just made it sound like I’ve got some sort of eating disorder or something, and not just depression. _ Ryan grinned. “Scatterbrain, remember?”

 

“That’s a bit more than scatterbrained, but okay,” Dallon said. “I think there are giant pretzels somewhere. I don’t really pay attention to that. I usually just come here to watch the games.”

 

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really care about sports,” Ryan said, zipping past Dallon because giant pretzels were fucking awesome and he wanted one. Like, immediately. He looked over his shoulder to make sure that Dallon hadn’t abandoned him, and added, “I mean, I care enough to be here, but like, that’s because I think you’re pretty okay.”

 

“I’m better than laundry,” Dallon said. 

 

Ryan shrugged. “Most things are better than laundry. You’re better than sitting around and writing in the laundry room while I do more laundry.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Dallon said. They were at the line for pretzels. Dallon stayed in line with Ryan, even though he didn’t buy anything. Rya wasn’t too surprised, since it was almost three in the afternoon. Most people weren’t eating at this time, because most people kept somewhat normal eating schedules. Ryan was not most people. 

 

He and Dallon ended up sitting five rows back from the court, on the home team side. Ryan didn’t know how people decided which side of the court was for the home team and which was for the away team, because both sides looked exactly identical. Dallon didn’t know, either, so the two of them started making up reasons as the girls finished warming up. 

 

“So, wait, which one of them is Breezy?” Ryan asked. 

 

Dallon pointed to a girl with brownish red hair that had been pulled up in a high ponytail. She had bangs and sharp eyebrows, and her ponytail bounced as she moved around the court, occasionally taking a shot. “That’s Breezy, she’s number 3 in case you forget.”

 

“And who are the others?” Ryan asked. He was going to be there for a few hours. He figured he might as well know who he was rooting for. 

 

Dallon pointed the other four girls out. There were more than five girls on the team, but Dallon said that usually people didn’t get benched until the end of the second half, so it wasn’t as important to know who the second lineup of girls were. The other four girls who would be playing for most of the game were Linda, Sarah, Meagan, and Kristen. Ryan was pretty sure he’d seen Sarah around. She had a very recognisable face, and was really pretty. They all were; Ryan could recognise that. 

 

“I thought you were only into guys,” Dallon commented. 

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not blind. I can still tell when a girl is attractive, even if I don’t want to date her.”

 

“I’ve never had that problem,” Dallon said, smugly. He leaned back into his chair, looking at peace with the world. Ryan studied him for a moment, ignoring the start of the game. Go team, and all that. Dallon had a nice profile. His nose was crooked, like he’d broken it at some point and it hadn’t healed correctly, and he had a strange jawline, but he was definitely not ugly.

 

And then Ryan realised that he was checking Dallon out and immediately focused back on the game, because  _ no _ . Ryan did not think Dallon was hot. Or anything like that. Dallon was just like the basketball girls. He was an attractive person, but Ryan was not attracted to him. Ryan wouldn’t be attracted to him, because there was no way that Dallon would like him back, ever. Ryan was trans. Ryan had scars running up his arms and the inside of his legs. Ryan was gangly and awkward and a bunch of other unappealing things. 

 

Ryan let out a sigh without realising it. Dallon glanced over, arching his eyebrow (he had really nice eyebrows; Ryan wondered how he did it). “Bored already?”

 

“No I just… I still don’t understand the game,” Ryan said. It wasn’t why he was being all dramatic, but it was true. Ryan was staring at the court, watching the basketball get passed around and also watching Breezy because she was Dallon’s friend and the reason they were there in the first place, but he didn’t know what he was watching  _ for _ . 

 

He listened to Dallon explain, adding in things as they happened on the court, and soon enough Ryan felt like he could actually follow what the girls were doing out there. He was still a little lost, and kept looking over at Dallon to see if he was supposed to cheer or not, but it was progress. 

 

They ended up winning, and the small crowd that had come to watch moved down onto the court. Dallon motioned for Ryan to follow him, and it wasn’t like Ryan had another option, so he got up out of his seat and followed Dallon onto the court. He almost slipped, because it was slippery from all the sweat, and reached out to grab Dallon’s elbow so he didn’t fall on his ass and embarrass himself. Ryan retracted his hand as soon as he was upright, though, ignoring how his face was heating up. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s cool,” Dallon said, tossing a crooked smile at Ryan. The whole not being attracted to Dallon thing was getting a lot harder the longer Ryan was around the guy. Dallon led Ryan over to where Breezy and Sarah were talking to a few other people. Dallon’s grin broadened as he came up behind Breezy and put his hands over her face. “Guess who it is?”

 

“I know who it is, asshole,” she said, ducking under Dallon and spinning around to face him. The two embraced, taking turns picking the other one up for a moment. Breezy dropped back down from the hug and put her hands on her hips, still smiling up at Dallon like he was the best thing in the world. She glanced past him at Ryan, and Ryan found himself scowling at her for some reason. “Who’s your friend?”

 

“This is Ryan,” Dallon said, motioning to Ryan and then pulling him in, like he and Dallon were more than just classmates and were actual friends. “He’s in my writing class.”

 

Breezy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so  _ you’re _ Ryan?”

 

“What?” Ryan asked, turning to Dallon in hopes of some explanation as to how Breezy knew about him. “You talk about me? Why?”

 

“You’re interesting?” Dallon said. He looked embarrassed. Ryan couldn’t understand why. It was weird that people were talking about Ryan when he wasn’t there, but it was also flattering. Ryan didn’t think of himself as interesting. He was the weird gay kid who was always angry and always writing about topics that no one cared about. 

 

“Do you guys want to hang out later, when we’re not all sweaty?” Breezy asked. She pointed to Ryan. “I want to get to know you, see if you’re as prolific as Dallon made you out to be.”

 

“Um,” Ryan said. “Sure?” 

  
It wasn’t like he had plans. Spencer, Jon, and Brendon only took up so much of his life, and he spent most of his spare time alone anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this took so long. I don't understand my own writing patterns (I don't even know if I have writing patterns). Also, I'm in a panel about sex toys while uploading this, in case you were wondering what kind of weird shit goes down in college.

Ryan had never been to a bar before. He tried to avoid them, because his dad was an alcoholic and Ryan didn’t like being around alcohol in any way. He was only there because Dallon and his basketball playing friends wanted to hang out there, and Ryan was too nervous to say anything about it. 

 

He wasn’t going to drink. They all knew he was underage, and hopefully no one would ask him why he wasn’t even trying to drink. 

 

Ryan took a deep breath and opened up the door, walking inside. It was dim, with neon lights spelling out various brand names on the wall and bass heavy music pumping through the speakers that were posted up near the ceiling. Ryan spotted Dallon and Breezy easily enough. They were both tall and gorgeous, and they were sitting at a table in the middle of the room with two other girls. 

 

Breezy saw him first, and waved him over, calling his name out. Ryan waved back and maneuvered through the crowd, settling into the stool beside Dallon and the blonde girl. “Hey guys. What’d I miss?”

 

“Not much,” Dallon said. “We haven’t ordered anything yet.”

 

“Is it going to be weird if I just get a coke?” Ryan asked. He knew there were a lot of people in college who expected everyone to get drunk. Ryan, for whatever reason, really didn’t want Dallon to be one of those people. 

 

“No, it’s not weird,” Dallon said. “I don’t drink a lot, either.”

 

“Oh, I don’t drink. Like, at all,” Ryan said. He could feel his face heating up, and so he quickly continued with, “not in a pretentious way or whatever. I don’t care if people drink it’s just that my dad--”

 

Dallon put his hand over Ryan’s. “It’s okay, dude. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

 

“Right, yeah, no,” Ryan said. He wasn’t making any sense, so he took a deep breath and tried not to think about how nice and warm Dallon’s hand was on his. Ryan’s hands were always cold, but Dallon’s were nice and warm like apple cider in the darkest part of January. Ryan glanced up at Dallon. “Do they have non-alcoholic apple cider here? Because I just remembered that that exists and now I really want some.”

 

“You really are a spacey guy,” Dallon said with a smile on his face that would make anyone swoon. He nodded. “But, yeah, I think they still do. It’s more of a wintery drink anyway.”

 

“It’s good whenever,” Ryan said. He wasn’t arguing, really, but sometimes he said things and they came out harsher than he intended and people thought he was being an ass. Ryan was an ass, sometimes, but only when cis people were being especially ignorant or he was really tired. 

 

Ryan kept turning his left wrist over, checking the freshly healed cuts. He knew they weren’t going to fade away to scars any time soon, because he’d done this before and he knew how it worked, but he couldn’t stop looking. They were just right there. Ryan was also in public, right next to Dallon, who could look over and catch a glimpse and start asking questions. Ryan pulled his sleeve down over his wrist and then shoved his hands under his thighs for good measure. 

 

“What do you think, Ryan?” Sarah asked over the music playing in the background. 

 

Ryan stared. “What?”

 

“Linda’s being a filthy heterosexual again and trying to ask a guy out,” Sarah said. She smiled and elbowed the blonde beside her, who stuck her tongue out. Sarah winked and turned her attention back to Ryan. “You’re a guy who likes guys, how would you do it?”

 

Ryan did not look at Dallon. It wasn’t like he wanted to ask Dallon out, or even thought he was cute. Dallon was cute, but Ryan wasn’t interested. Ryan crossed and uncrossed his ankles. “Uh, I’d probably just do it. But like, not in front of his friends or anything. Maybe over text or something. I’m not really good at romance.”

 

“Dallon’s worse, if it makes you feel better,” Breezy said. 

 

Linda grinned and nodded in agreement. “Oh my God, Dal, I love you in a friend way but you are actually the worst when it comes to crushing on people. I swear, this guy has spent  _ months _ pining after people before he did anything about it.”

 

“Oh, yes, because you and your poly sci boy are so much better at communication,” Dallon said, rolling his eyes. Ryan thought he was blushing, but the lighting was bad so it was hard to tell for sure. Dallon picked up his drink and drank from it, which looked like a distraction technique. Ryan drank from his cider so that Dallon didn’t look so obvious.

 

Ryan traced a finger around the rim of the glass. “So, uh, what do you guys do when I’m not here and awkward?”

 

“Usually just talk shit about people,” Sarah said. “Linda works at the front desk at a hotel, and there are a lot of shitty people who come in there.”

 

“I don’t have a job,” Ryan said. “I tried working on the newspaper but the don’t pay people until after their fourth article is published. It’s ridiculous. I was constantly writing shit and it was always boring, and I did not get paid enough for it.”

 

“Seriously?” Breezy made a face. “Is that even legal?”

 

Ryan shrugged. “Apparently. It’s probably because they’re a school paper, so they can just use the desperate journalism and English majors for free labor and subpar reporting skills. The only section of that paper that was quality is the sports section.”

 

“Yeah, but only with the guy’s sports,” Sarah said. She took a long drink from her glass, which was some fruity pink thing. “If they bother to go to the girl’s sporting events, they rarely get our names right, and they only write about how we fuck up on the court. I’ve never read a good article about our team, or any other girl’s team at this school.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” Dallon said. “You guys have only lost two games so far.”

 

“Right?” Breezy exclaimed.

 

Linda rolled her eyes and said around her drink, “talk about  _ sexism _ . We always do better than the boy’s, but we never get credit for it because everyone thinks girls suck at sports.”

 

The five of them fell into easy conversation after that, and Ryan felt like he could be a part of their friends group. He was still different, partially because he didn’t know them and partially because he wasn’t drinking alcohol, but it didn’t seem to matter. The others didn’t have too many drinks, but by the end of the evening, Ryan was the only one who was sober. 

 

“Do you guys need help getting home?” Ryan asked. Three of his companions were girls, and this was a college campus on a Saturday night. 

 

“I mean, if you want to,” Sarah said. “Or you can just come back with us and crash on the couch. We’re all roommates.”

 

“Really?” Ryan asked. “Even Dallon?”

 

“Yep,” Dallon said. He hadn’t moved away from Ryan, and the two were standing very close to each other. It was just because Dallon was drunk. It didn’t mean anything. The girls were all hanging onto each other. Dallon was using Ryan for balance. Whatever.

 

“Sure. I’ll just text my roommate,” Ryan said, and pulled out his phone. Spencer wouldn’t care, so long as he knew that Ryan was okay. Ryan went home with people on occasion. He and Spencer had a deal to make sure that Ryan didn’t end up bleeding on the side of the road because someone was pissed off that he was trans. 

 

Breezy called a Lyft to come pick them up, and the five of them huddled outside the bar under an awning while they waited. Ryan ended up between Linda and Dallon, leaning against the building so that he wasn’t intruding. Dallon leaned back as well, pressing his shoulder against Ryan’s and smiling down at him. “Did you have fun, or are my friends too weird?”

 

“I had fun,” Ryan said. “I don’t get out much.”

 

“I don’t either,” Dallon said. “Usually I’m in the library, working on some paper or report. I don’t know why I thought working at the writing center was a good idea. Freshmen can’t fucking write.”

 

“Hey, my best friend is a freshman,” Ryan said. He nudged Dallon with his elbow, softly. Dallon winced anyway, because Ryan’s elbows were sharp and were not made for gently, friendly nudging. Ryan felt his face heating up and he turned away. “Sorry. My elbows are sharp. I forgot.”

 

“It’s fine,” Dallon said. “I’m feeble when I’m drunk anyway.”

 

“You’re always feeble,” Linda said. “You’re like an old man.”

 

“No, I just live with three girls who would have kicked my ass in high school gym class,” Dallon said. 

 

The Lyft pulled up then, and the five of them got into it. Breezy got shotgun, Linda and Sarah took the middle seats, and Dallon and Ryan crawled into the back. The driver was an old guy, with short white hair and wrinkled skin. He was wearing a suit. He was playing the Siriusly Sinatra station, which Ryan only recognised because Brendon listened to it a lot. The car was dark, and Ryan could barely make out Dallon’s face.

 

They didn’t talk much, in the car. Breezy talked to the driver because she was in the front seat and he was an old man who probably hated kids and their newfangled technology. Ryan was glad he wasn’t in the front seat. Old people didn’t like him, because they couldn’t tell if he was a boy or a girl, so they considered him a weird liberal kid. They weren’t wrong, but Ryan hated being called ma’am when he wasn’t.

 

“Thanks for the ride,” Breezy said, smiling warmly at the driver, and then the five of them slid out of the car. The apartment was on the third floor of the building, and there was a house party going on next door to where they all lived. Ryan stared at the people next door while Sarah dug her key out of her purse. They all looked so carefree, like they weren’t stumbling through life with no sense of purpose or identity. 

 

_ Is that what it’s like to be straight? _ Ryan thought. 

 

“Got it,” Sarah said from behind them, jolting Ryan from his thoughts. He needed to stop getting depressed in public. Spencer was used to it, because he’d grown up with Ryan, and Brendon and Jon were used to it by association, but Dallon and his three friends had no idea how messed up Ryan was sometimes. Ryan didn’t want to freak them out. He just wanted to function like a normal human being. 

 

“Where are the blankets?” Breezy asked. She was bent over, trying to unzip her boots, and her hair was covering her face. The apartment was dark. 

 

Sarah flipped on a light and kicked off her heels. “I think they’re in Linda’s room? I don’t know. Who was the last person we had over?”

 

“No idea, but I’ll check,” Linda said. She wasn’t wearing heels, or boots or any complicated shoe. She walked back into the apartment, past the kitchen area to where Ryan suspected there were more bedrooms. 

 

Ryan moved over to the larger sofa and kicked off his own shoes. He tucked his feet under him and leaned against one of the arms, just watching everyone else. Dallon went to the kitchen ad started making noise; Ryan couldn’t see what he was doing from where he was seated, so he could only imagine what was going on over there. Sarah wandered over and came back a few moments later with a glass of water in one hand and a bag of yogurt covered pretzels in the other, 

 

She dropped into the space beside Ryan. “Want some? Dallon hates them.”

 

“That’s really bad advertising,” Ryan said. “But sure.”

 

“Hey, those are mine,” Breezy said. She didn’t move to go get them, but instead fell down onto the smaller couch and kicked her legs up. Sarah offered Ryan more pretzels, and Ryan took a handful because they were good. He personally preferred chocolate covered pretzels, but it was free food and so he wasn’t complaining. 

 

Linda came back with some blankets under her arms. A pillow flew into the living room a moment later, followed by Dallon leaning around the corner with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Linda sntached the pillow off of the ground and gestured at Dallon with it. “No throwing things when you’re drunk. This is why we don’t have candles on the table anymore.”

 

“You set the table on fire?” Ryan asked, sitting up to look at the table. 

 

Sarah shook her head. “It wasn’t lit when I hit it. It just fell off the table ad broke and then we couldn’t go barefoot for a month because we kept finding little shards of glass in the carpet.”

 

“At least nothing burned down?” Ryan offered. He and Spencer had set a few fires as kids. It was never anything big, usually just old school assignments or firecrackers. He reached out and grabbed the pillow and blankets from Linda and wrapped the blanket around himself. “So, bend time?”

 

“What are you, six?” Linda said, but she pointed at Sarah and Sarah stood up, giving Ryan the whole couch. Ryan waited until the three girls headed back to their rooms to start putting out the blankets. He was wearing his binder and trying to figure out how to take it off without anyone seeing him like that. 

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Dallon said quietly. 

 

Ryan startled, dropping the pillow. He turned around and brushed his hair away from his face, trying to look like he hadn’t just jumped in a mild panic. “I’m fine. I didn’t realise you were still out here.”

 

“Sorry,” Dallon said. He leaned against the counter. “Um, if you wanted to use the bathroom or anything, there’s one in the back that’s not connected to anyone’s room.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” Dallon said. He was really pretty in the shadows of the florescent kitchen lights. There was a lazy smile on his face, probably from the alcohol. He stood up, his hand still on the counter. “Night, Ryan.”

 

“Night,” Ryan said. Dallon walked away, and Ryan found himself staring at Dallon as he left. 

  
Ryan slumped down onto the couch, burying his face in the pillow. He had a crush on Dallon.  _ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comments/kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer than usual because I was working on nohic stuff. But, now that it's here, enjoy!
> 
> Warning for discussion of dysphoria/menstration

 

Ryan woke up disoriented the next morning. There was sunlight streaming in from the blinds, and at some point in the night the blanket under him had gotten untucked and was wrapped around his legs. He sat up slowly, keeping the other blanket around his chest in case anyone else in the apartment was awake.

 

Ryan was pretty sure Dallon knew he was trans. Dallon had read Ryan’s poems, and unlike the other people in their class, Dallon wasn’t straight and seemed to understand that gender was a fucking lie. Ryan grabbed his binder from where he had stuffed it between the couch cushions and snuck off to the bathroom at the back of the apartment to change back into his binder. 

 

Ryan pulled down his pants and whispered “ _ fuck _ ” under his breath. There were flecks of red in the crotch of his boxer briefs, which meant his period was starting. Ryan gritted his teeth and pulled his pants back up. All of Dallon’s roommates were girls, so surely there were pads or tampons somewhere in the bathroom. He found a pack of pads behind the toilet and put one on, carefully tucking the wrapper in the trash can so that no one would notice it was there. He washed his hands and returned to the couch, weighing his options. 

 

Periods in general sucked. Having a period while being a guy sucked even more, because it always Ryan feel dysphoric and disgusting. He pulled the blanket up around himself, pressing his face to the pillow. He wanted to go back to his dorm where only Spencer would be in the room. 

 

_ to spence: r u in the dorm _

_ spence: yeah r u coming back? _

_ to spence: i dont feel good so im coming back _

 

_ to dallon: sorry for slipping out early i woke up feeling like shit and didn’t want to wreck your couch with my illness _

 

Ryan put on his shoes and left the apartment. He put his headphones back in and turned up his music so that he couldn’t hear anything else. Luckily, Ryan’s dorm wasn’t very far from Dallon’s apartment. Spencer was waiting for him in the lobby, because Spencer was the best friend Ryan could ever ask for. He didn’t say anything to Ryan, but handed him a juice box as they made their way back to the elevators. 

 

Ryan leaned against Spencer and sipped from the juice box, trying not to think too much. It was hard, though, because Ryan’s mind never seemed to shut up. He was tired of always having thoughts rolling around in the back of his head, and he just wanted to rest. 

 

“Take your binder off if you’re going to go back to sleep,” Spencer reminded him. The door to their dorm room was closed and the lights were off, keeping the room dim. “Or do you want to get some blankets and watch Netflix on the floor?”

 

“Netflix,” Ryan said. He grabbed the bottle of Advil he kept by his desk and swallowed three pills, chasing them with more juice. “I’m not tired enough to get back to sleep.”

 

Spencer nodded, and started grabbing blankets and pillows to create a nest on the floor of their dorm room. Spencer had brought the rug from his bedroom at home, and it was the softest thing Ryan had ever sat on. Both boys rarely used their desks, to the point that they’d unlofted their beds and turned the desk area into extra storage space. 

 

Ryan and Spencer snuggled against each other leaned back against the wall. Ryan let Spencer choose what they were watching, because he was too tired to give a shit, and the Netflix was more of an excuse to get under blankets and not really exist for a while. 

 

Medication was never enough for Ryan’s cramps. It dulled the pain, but it didn’t get rid of it, and Ryan always felt exhausted for the first day or so of his period. He hated them. There was nothing good that came out of having a period. It just sucked.

 

A few hours later, Ryan was starting to feel better, and so he and Spencer headed down to the first floor to grab some food from the little cafe in the lobby. Ryan got Bagel Bites and a bottle of Fanta and opened the Fanta before he and Spencer bought their food. It was all overpriced, but Ryan didn’t care too much because he was hungry and the cafe was convenient. It wasn’t even a real cafe, and more of a mini-mart. 

 

The boys resumed their position on the floor once they were back in the dorm and Ryan’s Bagel Bites were being microwaved. Spencer stretched his legs out and placed his laptop on them. “So, now that you’re not dying as much, how was last night?”

 

“I think it went okay,” Ryan said. “I mean, it was weird being in a bar and not drinking, but Dallon and his friends didn’t seem to mind. They’re all cool, and surprisingly nerdy. One of Dallon’s friends hosts a DND campaign on Thursdays, apparently.”

 

“Is Dallon in it?” Spencer asked. 

 

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t think so. He didn’t say anything about playing when we were talking about it.”

 

“I can’t believe you got to hang out with a bunch of athletes and all you talked about was DND and writing stuff,” Spencer said. Ryan shoved him, because Spencer wasn’t any cooler. Just because Spencer watched sports and understood them, didn’t mean he was less of a dork than Ryan. 

Ryan leaned back so that his head was against the wall and he was looking up at the ceiling. He still liked Dallon, ten hours later, so last night wasn’t a fluke. Ryan had hoped it would be, because he used poetry to work through his feelings. If Dallon was going to be reading all of his work for the rest of the semester, Ryan wouldn’t be able to talk about having a crush on Dallon. Ever.

 

“You’re looking angsty again,” Spencer said. “What’s up?”

 

Ryan frowned. Spencer poked him. “Dude, come on. Don’t hide shit from me, you know I’m not going to judge you. Unless you killed someone. Then I might judge you. It depends on who you killed.”

 

“I killed Mike Pence,” Ryan said sarcastically. 

 

“Finally,” Spencer said. “But seriously, what’s up? You’re being all angsty and sighing all the time.”

 

“That’s my normal attitude,” Ryan said. 

 

“Stop avoiding the question, Ross,” Spencer said. He leaned in near Ryan’s face, narrowing his eyes and purposely looking ridiculous. There were a lot of people who thought Spencer looked ridiculous because he had a resting bitch face. Ryan was not one of those people, because he’d known Spencer for most of his life, and Spencer had never been intimidating in his entire life. 

 

Ryan sighed. “I have a crush.”

 

“Ooh,” Spencer said. “Is it Dallon?”

 

“Maybe,” Ryan said. He could feel his face getting red. Spencer was biting his hand so he didn’t laugh at Ryan, and so Ryan flicked Spencer in the nose. “Don’t laugh at me, asshole. I’m pining over a guy I can’t have. I can’t even write sad poetry about him, because what if he fucking reads my sad poetry?! He’s my writing partner. Nothing I write is sacred anymore.”

 

“Here’s an idea,” Spencer said. “Maybe don’t turn in all of your personal poems for the class to peer review.”

 

“Those are my only good ones,” Ryan said. It was true. Ryan had tried writing poems that didn’t reflect his inner emotions, and they always felt fake. They were boring, and flat, and pretentious in the wrong way. Ryan could do better than writing shit about spring blossoms and how the seasons reflected the mood of the world or whatever. 

 

“You’re a good writer, okay?” Spencer said. “It doesn’t matter what you’re writing. You’re a fucking genius on paper, even if you can’t see it.”

 

“Thanks Spence,” Ryan said. He leaned his head against Spencer’s shoulder. “Can we go back to watching Netflix?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer said, and started up  _ The Get Down _ again. It was a good show, even though the characters kept using the f-slur. Ryan didn’t mind it too much, but he wished they wouldn’t. He fucking hated that word. It was just gross and unnecessary. 

 

At some point, Ryan must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Spencer was gently shaking him awake and his neck hurt from where he’d been bent over. Ryan rubbed his face and pulled the blankets back around himself before pressing his head against Spencer’s chest. “Don’t make me move. You’re warm and I’m comfortable.”

 

“I can’t feel my legs,” Spencer said. “Also your phone was going off a bunch of times, so you might want to see what that’s about.”

 

“You didn’t check it?” Ryan asked, scooting across the carpet and towards his bed. 

 

“I try not to invade my friends’ privacy,” Spencer said. “Also, the last time I tried to check your phone, there was a dick pic. I don’t even know whose it was.”

 

Ryan laughed, which made his stomach hurt, so he curled over and pressed his head against the mattress. Spencer came up behind him and rubbed Ryan’s back for a bit, until Ryan could get back up and get into his bed. He took off his binder and put his shirt back on. Spencer looked away, which Ryan appreciated. He didn’t want to see his boobs, so he didn’t want his friend to either. 

 

Ryan curled up around his pillow, shivering slightly. He unlocked his phone and went into his messages to see who had been texting him on a Saturday. Ryan smiled a little when he saw that it was Dallon. 

 

_ dallon: hey i saw ur text sorry ur feeling bad :/ _

_ dallon: not to be weird but if u need soup or anything i can bring u some? _

_ dallon: not like campbells soup but really good chicken soup its sarah’s recipe _

_ dallon: also make sure to rest/hydrate _

_ dallon: breezy’s a nursing major sorry for mothering u via text _

 

“Dallon?” Spencer asked from his own bed.

 

Ryan nodded. “Was it that obvious?”

 

“Only because I know you’ve got a crush on him,” Spencer said. “I would have thought it was a meme or something in your pretentious writers group chat.”

 

“They’re not pretentious, Ryan said, rolling his eyes. His friends were a little pretentious, but so was Ryan so he fit in and it wasn’t that big of a deal. He hadn’t talked to them much recently, but that was probably because everyone was busier during spring semester. For whatever reason, spring semester classes were harder than fall semester. 

 

“They’re a little pretentious,” Spencer said. 

 

Ryan propped himself up on his elbow so that he could get a proper view of his best friend. “Did you have Brendon over last night?”

 

“Yeah,” Spencer said. “That’s usually what happens when you’re not in the room.”

 

“Dude, gross,” Ryan made a face. “I spend a lot of time in the library.”

 

“And with  _ Dallon _ ,” Spencer said in a sing-song voice. Ryan flipped him off, and Spencer laughed. At least one of them had a successful sex life. Ryan hadn’t had sex in a while, and he wouldn’t be able to for the next few days because of his stupid period. 

 

Ryan knew that some people were into period sex, but he was not one of them. Sex was not supposed to involve blood. Other body fluids, yes, but not blood. He made another face and flopped down onto his back, staring up at the underside of the desk. “I only started crushing on him last night, okay? It’s not like I chose Dallon as my partner so that I could stare at his face more than twice a week. I’m not that creepy.”

 

“Sure, Ry, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Spencer said. 

 

“Speaking of which, I’m tired, so shut the fuck up and let me take a nap.”

  
“No one was stopping you but yourself,” Spencer said. He got up and pulled the curtains over the window anyway. Ryan grabbed his earbuds and plugged them into his phone before turning over and facing the wall. He closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep with the soft sounds of Green Day playing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm eating pumpkin bread so there will be no capital letters. also i'm sorry for any typos i only have one hand right now.
> 
> anyway, let the pining begin.

Ryan’s period finally ended the next Thursday. Because of that, and because he’d texted Dan earlier and they’d agreed to go back to Dan’s apartment after classes ended, Ryan was in a good mood. He’d grabbed condoms from the campus pride center and everything. He was ready. 

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look suspiciously happy,” Dallon said while the rest of the class was chattering amongst themselves. Dallon looked good that day. He looked good most days, but today his hair was especially fluffy and the blue in his shirt was making his eyes look like the sky at noon on a clear fall day. Dallon smiled. “Did you kill someone?”

 

“Why would murder make me happy?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Don’t know,” Dallon said. “But you seem like the kind of guy who’s into some weird stuff.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. In comparison to Brendon, he was terrifyingly vanilla. Then again, in comparison to Brendon, most people were terrifyingly vanilla. Ryan had learned about way too many kinks because of Spencer and Brendon’s relationship. Jon thought it was fascinating, and kind of hilarious, but Jon hadn’t grown up with Spencer or Brendon and didn’t consider either of them to be his brother. 

 

Ryan could no longer look at rope without wanting to cry or scratch his eyeballs out. He shook his head at Dallon. “I’m not. I’m pretty boring. I did joke about killing Mike Pence to my friend the other day, though.”

 

“I’d help you bury the body,” Dallon offered. 

 

Ryan grinned. “Thanks man. If I ever get around to driving up to Indiana and killing the Vice President, I’ll let you know.”

 

“And if you need a car, Linda’s got one that we can borrow,” Dallon said. “I don’t know if she’s straight or not, but she definitely hates Mike Pence and she’d definitely let us borrow her car to go on a murder mission to Indiana. Does he even live in Indiana?”

 

“I have no idea. I never paid attention in Government class.”

 

“Me either,” Dallon said. Ryan really wished that he could be dating Dallon. Dallon seemed like he’d make a really good boyfriend. He was funny, charming… Ryan was in deep but he wasn’t going to do anything about it because they had to survive this class together. Ryan didn’t want to risk his grade just because he had an attractive partner. 

 

Ryan shrugged and opened up his notebook so that he would have an excuse to look away from Dallon and hide his blush. “Well, we’ll figure that out when we get up there. Did you do any of the readings we were supposed to do last night? I literally only did one and bullshitted my way through the response.”

 

“How are you such a good writer when you never read anything?” Dallon asked. “And yes, I read the stuff we were assigned, because  _ I’m a good student _ .”

 

“Shut up, I’m a great student,” Ryan said. That was a lie. Ryan was only passing his classes because all but one of them were English classes, and that was all he could manage most days. He just didn’t have the energy for anything that didn’t involve writing, reading, or shitting on pretentious white writers who thought they could write a best-selling novel just because they were educated and sad. 

 

Ryan was educated and sad, and he knew that most of the shit he wrote would never go over well with mainstream America. He was a mentally ill, transgender gay dude. He wasn’t exactly appealing.

 

“Sure,” Dallon said. “That’s why you always wait until three in the morning to post your responses on the discussion board?”

 

“No, I just like staying up late,” Ryan said. The truth was, he didn’t always sleep well, and sometimes the only thing he could do at three in the morning, sitting alone in the commons area so he wasn’t keeping Spencer up, was to write. Usually he ended up writing stuff for class. Sometimes he wrote enough that he wasn’t behind on his assignments, but usually Ryan spent his late nights in the commons area playing catch up.

 

“I can’t judge you for that,” Dallon said. “I’m one of those assholes who gets up early to go to the gym and work out. We’ve probably been awake at the same point at least once.”

 

Ryan made a face. He couldn’t imagine waking up early just to go outside and get sweaty and gross. Gym class in high school had been bad enough, and that was before he was able to wear a binder. All of his gym class coaches thought that because he had long legs and was skinny, he’d be great at running. They were wrong. The only thing Ryan was good at running from were his problems. 

 

Ryan had to resist the urge to check his phone during class. He wanted to make sure that Dan still wanted to hook up with him that evening, and wasn’t going to go off and do something with his other friends. 

 

Ryan was pretty sure that Dan, Z, and the other theatre majors he hung out with only put up with him because he was good in bed and they didn’t have enough time to go out and date someone for real. Ryan was in no place to complain, though, because if he wasn’t getting laid with the theatre majors, then he wasn’t getting laid at all. He hated his body, but it was nice to see other people enjoy him. 

 

“Did you want to get coffee?” Dallon said as he and Ryan grabbed their stuff. Ryan looked up at Dallon, and immediately knew he’d be saying yes. He and Dan weren’t going to meet up until eight anyway, so it wasn’t like Ryan had to rush. And besides, Dallon looked so cute and earnest, like he was afraid of Ryan rejecting him.

 

Ryan smiled. “Of course, dude. You’re one of the few people here I actually like talking to.”

 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Dallon said as he followed Ryan out of the classroom. Ryan pushed open the giant doors to exit the building, and violently shivered when the cold, windy air hit him. It hadn’t been that cold when he left for class that day. Ryan was only wearing a sweater and his binder. He shivered again, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. 

 

Dallon frowned and started to take off his backpack. “Do you want my jacket? I’m not that cold without it…”

 

“I’m f-f-fine,” Ryan said, grimacing as he stuttered through the words. Dallon was already taking off his coat. It was long and grey, with a tall collar and lined pockets. It smelled like Dallon when Ryan put it on, and he felt like he was sinking into the fabric.  _ This is what spooning him would be like _ , Ryan thought. Then,  _ don’t be creepy, what the fuck? The guy gives you his jacket and you immediately start fantasising about him? Come on. _

 

“Ready to go?” Dallon asked, oblivious to Ryan’s current gay panicking. Ryan nodded, and the two of them headed up the hill towards the library and the Starbucks that resided inside of it. 

 

The library was crowded and the line for Starbucks was long. Ryan frowned. There was no way he and Dallon would be able to find seats, and Ryan didn’t want to have to stand around while drinking coffee and talking to Dallon. He sighed. “I hate to ask this, but do you want to just go to my dorm? It’s right next to the library, and I promise my roommate and his boyfriend aren’t completely unbearable.”

 

“Does this mean I get to meet your friends now?” Dallon asked, his lips curling up into a grin. He was too beautiful to be real. Ryan was suffering. 

 

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said. “I mean, if Spence is in there, sure. And he’ll probably have Brendon with him because Brendon’s always over anyway. Hopefully they won’t be making out or anything. That’s always weird to walk in on.”

 

“I feel that,” Dallon said. “When Sarah and Breezy started dating, we had to make a rule about making out in the kitchen or on the couch. They’re great roommates, but Linda and I always felt like we were walking in on them when we came home unexpectedly.”

 

“Breezy and Sarah are dating?” Ryan asked. He hadn’t picked up on that at all. Usually he was good at that kind of thing. He and Jon had been making bets about when Spencer and Brendon would get together for months before they started dating. 

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said. He and Ryan were almost to the counter. “They can’t be open about it, because of the whole athletes thing, but they’ve been together for over a year. Most people don’t realise unless they’re really close friends or they’re also gay.”

 

“Huh,” Ryan said. He and Dallon had to stop talking to order their coffee, and then they were squished off to the side with everyone else who was waiting on their order. Ryan pulled out his phone to check and see if there was anything important he’d missed. There was a text from Dan, saying that they were still on for the night, and asking Ryan what he wanted to grab for dinner. 

 

Ryan appreciated the effort Dan put into their hook-ups, even though they both knew it was only a friends with benefits thing. Ryan texted back saying he was fine with whatever Dan got, as long as it didn’t involve mayonnaise. Ryan hated mayonnaise. It made him gag.

 

“Who’re you texting over there?” Dallon asked. There was something different about his voice, but Ryan couldn’t put his finger on what was off about it. 

 

Ryan quickly locked his phone, even though there was no reason to be ashamed of what he was doing. He was an adult; if he wanted to have sex with people then there was nothing stopping him. It was all legal and consensual. It was fine. Ryan flicked his bangs out of his face. “Nothing, just meeting up with someone later.”

 

“I thought you were single,” Dallon said, looking confused. 

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “It’s 2017. There’s nothing wrong with having casual sex. Besides, who would want to date me, anyway? I’m an emotionally constipated mess.”

 

“I, ah…” Dallon said, and looked away. Ryan’s heart sunk in his chest, but he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Why would Dallon want to date him? Ryan was trans, so most people didn’t even see him as a real man, and he was angsty and angry and depressed all the time. He wasn’t even that attractive. All he had going for him was his poetry, and even then, that was more of a shock factor than anything else. People didn’t fall in love with someone talking about how much they hated themselves. Ryan wasn’t special.

 

“You’re not undateable,” Dallon said quickly. “You’re witty, and smart as hell, and you’re not bad to look at either. If people don’t want to date you, that’s their loss. I’m sure you’d make a great boyfriend.”

 

“Thanks,” Ryan said. He wasn’t sure he believed anything Dallon was saying. “I think our coffee’s ready.”

 

Ryan walked away from Dallon to go up to the counter. Sure enough, there were two cups of coffee, labeled  _ Ryan _ and  _ Dylan _ (which was how the baristas always ended up spelling Dallon’s name, and usually Ryan thought it was hilarious). Ryan grabbed them and returned to where Dallon was standing. He handed Dallon’s over, ignoring the hurt look on Dallon’s face and how it made his chest clench up. 

 

Ryan adjusted his coffee cup. “Come on, let’s go up to my dorm. It’s less crowded there.”

 

Weirdly enough, that was the kind of thing Ryan would say to someone before taking them up to his dorm to have sex. He wasn’t going to have sex with Dallon. He liked Dallon too much to get naked in front of him, because he knew Dallon would never see Ryan as a guy if he ever saw Ryan naked. Ryan cared what Dallon thought about him, and that sucked. 

 

Ryan’s other friends were different. He thought they were all attractive--he wouldn’t be making out and fucking them if he didn’t--but he wasn’t crushing on them. There were no feelings other than friendship and a bit of lust. Ryan would be pissed if Z or Dan or Alex ever called him a girl, but he wouldn’t feel heartbroken. 

 

If Dallon saw him as a girl, Ryan would probably start crying. It was ridiculous. 

 

Dallon stopped Ryan before they got to his and Spencer’s dorm. He put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and turned him around. For a moment, Ryan hoped that Dallon would pull him forward into a kiss. That didn’t happen. Dallon said, “listen, Ryan, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything, but I didn’t mean it if I did. I just… you’re a really great guy, and I promise you, there’s someone out there who’s gonna take one look at you and get swept away by how amazing you are. You’re more than an emotionally constipated mess.”

  
Fuck. Ryan really was falling for this guy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newsflash asshole, I've been ready to drop a double update on FOB day this whole time. 
> 
> (That's a lie; I literally finished this chapter in like three hours so that I could put it out today)

Ryan and Dan were in bed together, mostly naked and sharing a pack of cigarettes even though they weren’t supposed to be smoking inside. Ryan didn’t usually smoke, but it made the post-sex awkwardness more bearable. He never knew what to do after he and his partner orgasmed and cleaned themselves up. He never knew when it stopped being too early to grab his things and leave. 

 

“What's on your mind?” Dan asked. “You're usually a lot more talkative.”

 

“I think I'm falling for this guy, but he's cis and I know I don't have a chance with him,” Ryan said. He stared at the cigarette between his fingers, watching the cherry fade between grey and red. He flicked his eyes up at Dan. “How do you do it? You're always dating someone.”

 

“I don’t doubt myself as much,” Dan said. He stuck his cigarette into his mouth and reached over, running his hand through Ryan’s hair. Ryan ducked away. He worked hard on making his hair look a certain way, and he wasn’t a big fan of people touching it. Only during sex, because he understood that people needed something to hold onto, and Ryan wasn’t opposed to having his hair pulled in the heat of the moment. 

 

Dan breathed out smoke. “I know you’ve got that mysterious writer vibe going on, but if you want to have a meaningful relationship with someone, you have to open up to them. Otherwise, you’re always going to feel like the relationship is empty.”

 

“I talk to Spencer,” Ryan argued.

 

“You don’t fuck Spencer, though,” Dan said. He had a point, which sucked. Ryan had never fucked Spencer, or even thought about it. Aside from the few months in sixth grade where he’d had a crush on Spencer, Ryan had never been interested in dating his best friend. There was a clear, distinct line that the two of them had drawn in their friendship, and neither boy was going to cross it. 

 

Besides, Spencer had Brendon. He didn’t need Ryan in that way.

 

“You’re into someone, aren’t you?” Dan asked. Ryan glared at him, and Dan threw his hands up. “I’m just being observant. No need to get all defensive.”

 

“All defensive is my natural state of being,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He took a long drag from his cigarette to avoid answering. Was he really that easy to read? And if so, did that mean Dallon already know how Ryan felt about him? Ryan hoped not; he never wanted his crushes to figure out he was into them. He was too scared of getting rejected. 

 

“You should work on that, then,” Dan said. He leaned over Ryan and snubbed his cigarette out on an old homework assignment. “I know you’ve got issues, but everyone does. And you shouldn’t keep yourself from being happy just because  _ you _ don’t think you’re worth loving.”

 

“Stop being so philosophical,” Ryan said, and put out his own cigarette. He climbed on top of Dan, kissing him deeply. Ryan was good with words, but the wasn’t good at talking about himself to other people. That’s why therapy had never worked for him, and that was why he kept a lot of poetry journals around his dorm room. Spencer knew better than to go looking for them. They were Ryan’s thoughts, and he’d share them if he ever needed to. 

 

He and Dan ended up having sex again, with Ryan on top of Dan, riding his dick and grinning as Dan moaned and fell apart under him. Ryan had never been against vaginal sex, unless he was on his period. It didn’t bother him, he just liked being turned on and fucked. He could feel when Dan came, aided by the long whine the man let out underneath him. Ryan pulled off, giving Dan a few moments to recover before gently pushing his head down. 

 

“Don’t be so pushy, Ross,” Dan said, his hand tight on Ryan’s upper thigh. Ryan winked, because he could be as pushy as he wanted so long as he and his partner ended up satisfied, and then Dan winked back before going down on him. Ryan threw his head back as Dan ate him out, accidentally hitting his head on the wall. 

 

Dan looked up. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m just an idiot,” Ryan said. He ruffled Dan’s hair. “Suck my dick, Daniel.”

 

“Don’t call me Daniel,” Dan said, and then ran his tongue up Ryan’s clit. Ryan whined, curling his fingers deep into Dan’s hair and jerking his hips forward. Right. That was what it felt like when a guy knew what he was doing. That was why Ryan really liked having sex with Dan. 

 

Ryan came, and then he and Dan shared another pair of cigarettes. Dan offered to let Ryan stay the night, even though they both knew that Ryan wasn’t that kind of guy. Ryan declined, as he always did, and gathered his things together before heading out. He did grab his leftover takeout from Dan’s fridge before leaving the apartment. Free food was free food, and Dan didn’t like pineapple chicken anyway. 

 

It was dark outside, so Ryan kept his music low and did his best to look like a cis guy walking around alone at night. He hated not having a car, but he also knew that it was a pain in the ass to have a car on campus. There were never any parking spaces, and cars got vandalised pretty frequently. 

 

College was hell. Ryan hated it, but he wasn’t good at anything but pretentious English nonsense, so it was his only chance at having a future where he didn’t have to live in Spencer’s parents’ basement. 

 

There were a few people out, as well as a party or two spilling out into the street. Ryan never understood how people could throw parties on a Thursday. There was still class on Friday, and Ryan knew from growing up with an alcoholic father that hangovers were not fun. Not everyone was at a party, though, and there were a handful of people running down the streets. Ryan shook his head. He could never do that. He wasn’t a physically active person, because gym’s sucked and he knew that he’d never look cis even if he worked out constantly. 

 

He was just too thin and pretty to look like a normal guy. It sucked. 

 

Ryan stopped in his tracks when he noticed someone running down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. It was Dallon, his bangs flopping up and down as he moved. Ryan checked the street to make sure that no one was going to come out of nowhere and run him over, and then he ran across the road to catch up with Dallon. Ryan reached out, pulling at Dallon’s sleeve, and Dallon jumped. 

 

“It’s just me,” Ryan said. He didn't mean to startle the guy. 

 

Dallon pulled out one earbud and pushed his hair out of his face. He was flushed, a little sweaty, and hot as hell. “Hey. What’re you doing out here?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ryan said. “I thought you did your weird running shit in the morning.”

 

Dallon rolled his eyes. “Running is not weird, jeez. And yeah, I usually do it in the morning, but I was getting frustrated with this assignment for one of my other classes, so I decided to go run and clear my head. It helps, sometimes.”

 

“Can’t relate,” Ryan said. “I’ve never used exercise as a study break. I prefer staring at my ceiling and regretting my entire life.”

 

“I do that too,” Dallon said, grinning down at Ryan. He was really pretty. Ryan was really gay, and it wasn’t fair. Dallon pulled out his phone and then wrapped his earbuds around it. “I could walk you back to your dorm, if that’s where you’re going? I’m pretty much done with my run for the night.”

 

“That’d be great,” Ryan said. Really, he just wanted an excuse to hang out with Dallon, because Ryan couldn’t get enough of the guy. It was a little ridiculous, and Spencer would probably laugh at Ryan if he knew how pathetic he was about Dallon, but Ryan didn’t care. He’d take whatever he could get, even if he couldn’t ever get a date with the guy. 

 

They talked about various things on the way back. Ryan found out that Dallon was originally from Missouri of all places, but that he’d moved away when he was only two years old so he didn’t remember anything about it. He had no interest in going back, because there wasn’t much to do in Missouri. It was a pretty boring state.

 

When they got to the entrance of Ryan’s dorm hall, Ryan felt like Dallon was dropping him off after a date. Except, Ryan had just been having sex with Dan, and he’d only happened to run into Dallon on his way home. Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and avoided looking Dallon directly in the eye. “So, uh, thanks for walking me home. I guess. This is really weird.”

 

“It’s cool,” Dallon said. “I’d do it for any of my friends, if they wanted me to. I’m like a personal bodyguard.”

 

“It’s because of the height, isn’t it?”

 

Dallon shrugged, waving his hand. “Eh, probably. I haven’t gotten in a fight with anyone yet, so we’ll see how that goes. Not that I’m planning to fight anyone. I just think about things a lot. Like, worst case scenarios and all that.”

 

“Me too,” Ryan said. “Although mine usually end with me dying, not my friend getting in a fight for me.”

 

“I mean, if you did die, I would totally fight to avenge your death,” Dallon said. He was adorable. Ryan grinned without meaning to, and shook his head to try and hide the blush crossing his cheeks. Dallon laughed. “What? I would! You’re worth avenging, Ryan.”

 

“You’re worth avenging too,” Ryan said. “If you ever needed it, obviously. You seem to be doing pretty okay on your own, though.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Dallon said. “I almost broke the sink yesterday.”

 

Ryan made a face. He’d never had a broken sink, but he’d seen bathrooms and toilets overflow, and it was never pretty. “You fixed it, right?”

 

A pair of girls walked between the two of them and into the dorm hall, giggling about something Ryan couldn’t hear. He hoped that he and Dallon weren’t the butt of the joke. He always worried that people were laughing at him, and that no one actually liked him and just put up with him out of pity. 

 

Dallon looked up, a tired smile gracing his face. The light of the street lamp illuminated his face, making him glow in the darkness of the cold February night. His eyes were a soft, pure blue, and his jaw cast a dark, defined shadow onto his neck. “Yeah, we fixed it. It was a messy process, though. Everyone got soaked and the carpet’s still damp. You probably shouldn’t come over for the next few days.”

 

“Were you expecting me to come over?” Ryan asked, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. Did Dallon actually want him around. 

 

Dallon rubbed at the back of his neck. “I mean, if you wanted to? I like hanging out with you, and my roommates thought you were cool, so… if you wanted to you could hang out with us on like, Saturday or whenever. Just don’t use the back bathroom. The carpet squelches now.”

 

“I’ll make sure to avoid it,” Ryan said, grinning despite himself. He’d been invited over, for no reason other than to hang out with Dallon and his friends. For once, the idea of hanging out with people he didn’t know well wasn’t terrifying. He tapped the toe of his shoe against the concrete. “I should probably go up. I’ve got homework, and it’s late and stuff. But thanks for the invite. Just let me know when I can come over?”

 

“Sure thing,” Dallon said, giving Ryan a little salute. “Have a good night, Ryan. I’ll see you around.”

  
Ryan waited until Dallon was out of sight, and then he let himself fall down onto the floor and laugh. He was giddy; it was weird. He kicked one leg up in the air because there was no one around to judge him for it. “I’m going to Dallon’s apartment!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on a different ryllon fic, which is getting really long. Not, like, Mile Marker 17 long, because I don't think I'll ever pull something like that out again (holy shit), but it's gonna be at lease 20k. So, look forward to that. 
> 
> Also, Jon! He's in this chapter. I love he.

“I’m pathetic,” Ryan said to Jon the next day. The two of them were in the Pride Center, with Jon sitting behind the desk because he was supposedly working. Ryan had pulled a cube up next to it, and had his feet propped up on the edge of the desk. Jon’s flip flops were off, sitting on the floor under the desk. Jon never wore shoes. 

 

Ryan uncrossed his ankles and dropped his leg into Jon’s lap, since Jon was ignoring him. “Jon. Listen. I’m going to die alone and your cats are going to eat me.”

 

“Good,” Jon said, without looking away from his laptop. He just moved his arms out from under Ryan’s leg. “They’ll probably hate how you taste though, you skinny mother fucker.”

 

“You’re the worst person to go to in a crisis,” Ryan said, and put his other leg on Jon’s lap. At least he still had his shoes on so that Jon didn’t have to smell his feet. Ryan was considerate of other people. “I’m trying to be a better person and talk about my feelings but you’re ignoring me for the sake of statistics.”

 

“Yeah, because I have a test in two days but you and Dallon are going to keep dancing around each other for the rest of the semester,” Jon said. He shifted in the desk chair, holding Ryan’s legs down so that Ryan didn’t fall off his lap. Jon was considerate like that. And Ryan knew that Jon wasn’t really upset with him, he just pissy when he was stressed. Jon aggressively typed something out on his laptop. “This is fucking ridiculous. I know my fucking password, just let me on the wifi.”

 

“Do you want to use my laptop?” Ryan asked. “I’m not working on anything right now.”

 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jon said. “I’ll make sure my cats don’t eat your body when you die alone.”

 

“Wow, what a hero,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He handed his three year old, sticker coated laptop over, and took Jon’s newer, naked laptop from him. Ryan had no idea how to fix the wifi problem, but he also wasn’t stuck in the Pride Center. Ryan didn’t have a job, even though he probably needed one if he wanted to keep impulsively buying office supplies from Walmart at two in the morning. 

 

He lived a very boring life. 

 

“Dallon probably thinks I’m pathetic,” Ryan mused when turning the wifi on and off again didn’t fix the problem. 

 

Jon dropped his head down onto the desk. “Oh my God. I changed my mind. I hate you. I will personally be feeding your dead body to my cats.”

 

“I’m not being that bad!” Ryan exclaimed. He was really glad that no one was in the Pride Center with them. It was only ten in the morning, but Ryan had nowhere else to go after his nine AM class, and Jon was stuck here until his class at eleven thirty. 

 

“Yeah, maybe, but you and Spencer are both being ridiculous, and somehow I ended up as the sounding board for both of your relationship problems,” Jon said. He was still facedown on the desk. It was kind of funny. “I should just lock you two in the back room and make you complain to each other. That’s what you guys did in high school, right? You yelled about your problems to each other because you didn’t have any other friends?”

 

“We had friends, shut the fuck up,” Ryan said, and flicked Jon’s ear for good measure. “They just weren’t gay so we knew they wouldn’t understand our problems.”

 

“I wish that was me,” Jon said. 

 

“No you don’t,” Ryan said. “You’d hate being a straight dude. They’re all ugly and can’t dress themselves. Also, they unironically like beer, for some reason.”

 

“That’s just frat boys,” Jon said. “I’m sure there are straight guys out there who hate beer and know how to put on clothes without looking like an eight year old at Easter.”

 

“The new gender binary is frat boy and straight guy cryptid,” Ryan said drily. The wifi on Jon’s laptop still wasn’t connecting. Ryan considered punching the screen for a moment, but it wasn’t his laptop and he was pretty sure Jon would actually kill him if he did it. Ryan wanted to die, usually, but he didn’t want Jon to be the one to do it. Jon was too calm and nice. If he ever snapped, there’d be a lot of carnage, and it would be long and painful. Ryan didn’t want long and painful, if he got any choice in the matter.

 

“Stop thinking about straight guys and dying,” Jon said. 

 

“I was not thinking about either of those things.”

 

“Liar,” Jon snorted. “I know you, and you’re always thinking about death.”

 

“I’m gonna go to the tech desk and see if they can save your asshole of a laptop,” Ryan said, because he didn’t want to admit that Jon was right. He and Jon (and Spencer and Brendon) joked about their mental issues a lot, because it was funny and it scared people who weren’t mentally ill. 

 

There was a waitlist for the tech help desk, which sucked because Ryan didn’t want to be in the library when he could have been hanging out with Jon instead. He swiped his school ID and signed in anyway, and then sat down on one of the fancy library chairs to wait for his turn. He opened Jon’s laptop again and opened Chrome to play the little dinosaur game. Ryan sucked at it, and he kept dying, but it was more entertaining than anything else he could do on Jon’s laptop. 

 

“Chelsea?” A voice called out, and Ryan cringed. He hated his dead name, because it wasn’t really him but everyone called him that unless he said otherwise. He wasn’t a Chelsea, he was Ryan, and he’d always fucking been Ryan. 

 

He got up and walked over to the guy who was going to fix Jon’s computer. Ryan tried not to sneer too much while the guy explained how computers worked. Ryan wasn’t a fucking idiot. He was twenty years old. He knew how computers worked, and he’d already done half the things the guy was suggesting he try. 

 

Eventually, the guy stopped talking down to Ryan and just fixed the fucking problem. Ryan thanked him and got out of there as fast as he could. He and Jon had been right about one thing: straight dudes were the worst. Ryan never wanted to interact with one again, even though he knew he’d have to at some point. 

 

Ryan was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Dallon crossing the library’s ground floor to come meet him, and almost ran into the guy. Jon’s laptop started to slip from Ryan’s hands, and he screamed “SHIT” as he fumbled to catch it. Dallon reached for the laptop too, and grabbed it before it could hit the ground. 

 

He held it out to Ryan. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I promise.”

 

“No, it’s okay,” Ryan said, taking Jon’s laptop back. “I was just in my own head. I’ve got a lot going on.”

 

“I can tell. You look stressed,” Dallon said. Ryan frowned. Did Dallon mean that as an insult of was he just worried about Ryan’s well-being? It was probably the first one. Dallon didn’t care enough about Ryan to worry about him. Dallon ran his hand through his hair, messing it up so it floofed out in multiple directions. He somehow pulled the look off. “Do you want me to buy you a coffee or something? I don’t know what you do to destress.”

 

“I’ve never destressed in my life,” Ryan said. 

 

Dallon’s face fell. “Ah… never mind then.”

 

_ Shit. I fucked up.  _ Ryan quickly shook his head, holding Jon’s laptop close to his chest. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’d love coffee, actually. Coffee’s great.”

 

Dallon smiled again, and Ryan was relieved. He was also swooning a little, because Dallon’s smile combined with his messy hair was the gayest thing Ryan had seen in a while. Dallon was just stunning in general, and Ryan needed to stop feeling so many emotions because it was fucking with his reputation as a bitter asshole. 

 

Dallon bought Ryan’s coffee even though Ryan tried to stop him. It made Ryan feel like he was on a date, which was ridiculous. It was ten in the morning. No one went on dates at ten in the morning. Ryan shook his head, and looked up at Dallon, who was holding back a yawn. Well. Maybe people who willingly got up at five in the morning to go run for an hour went on dates in the morning, but Ryan wasn’t one of those people.

 

“You know, you wouldn’t be tired if you didn’t get up at five in the morning,” Ryan said. 

 

“And you wouldn’t be tired if you weren’t going to Walmart at three in the morning,” Dallon said. He had a point. Ryan should have never added Dallon on snapchat. Now Dallon could see all of Ryan’s weird mental illness decisions, which included three AM Walmart trips and drastic hair changes. Ryan hadn’t done anything weird with his hair recently. 

 

“You have a point,” Ryan said. 

 

“Obviously,” Dallon said. He winked at Ryan and then grabbed their coffees. Ryan was too busy staring at Dallon, trying to think of a heterosexual explanation for that wink, to realise that Dallon was still talking to him. “Ryan. Hey, you still there?”

 

“Yeah, sorry.”

 

“It’s cool. I was asking where you were going next. I don’t have a class until noon, so I’m free for a bit if you wanted to do anything,” Dallon asked. 

 

“I’m probably gonna go back to the Pride Center,” Ryan said. Dallon nodded, and motioned for Ryan to lead the way, so Ryan did. He kept looking over his shoulder, making sure that Dallon was still following him and that he wasn’t just strutting through the library for no reason. Dallon was still there, and he followed Ryan through the courtyard and up the ramp that led into the Pride Center. 

 

Jon was still the only one in there, because most people were asleep or in class (or both). He looked up when Ryan opened the door. “You brought a friend! I have no idea who they are.”

 

“Wow, Jon, way to be friendly,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He gave Jon his laptop back and returned to his cube by the desk. Dallon was still standing awkwardly in the entrance, holding his coffee in his hand. Ryan sat up and motioned to Jon. “Dallon, this is Jon, the resident hobo and future drug dealer--”

 

“We’re not friends,” Jon muttered. 

 

Ryan ignored him. “--and Jon this is Dallon, the guy from my creative writing class who buys me coffee sometimes.”

 

“I should start taking creative writing classes. I want free coffee,” Jon said. He grinned up at Dallon. “But seriously, it’s cool to meet you. Ryan’s talked about you, which is weird because Ryan doesn’t usually talk about people unless he’s ranting about how much he hates them. He likes you, don’t worry. He said you were ridiculously tall.”

 

“I am,” Dallon said. He took a seat on the couch nearest the door and crossed his legs. He looked strangely relaxed. It was probably Jon’s presence. Jon was very calming, which was why he got put on desk duty so often. 

 

“So, Dal, what kind of stuff are you into?” Jon asked as he switched back from Ryan’s laptop to his own. “Also, since I’m supposed to be working, we have bracelets, stickers, and buttons over there if you want to gay up your wardrobe. We also have ally stuff, in case Ryan somehow managed to befriend a heterosexual.”

 

“I’m bi,” Dallon said. He didn’t get up to go look at the pins, but that was okay. He’d mentioned that he wasn’t really out, so it would be weird for him to suddenly start sporting pride flags when no one knew he was into guys. “And, uh, I’m friends with a lot of the girl’s basketball team? I guess that’s a fun fact.”

 

“I’d say yeah,” Jon said. “I don’t know anything about sports though, so I’m not necessarily impressed.”

 

“Am I supposed to be impressing you?” 

 

“Only if you want to take me to bed, Mr. Dallon sir,” Jon said drily, and then winked at him. Because he was Jon, and that was how he dealt with his friends’ crushes. He’d done the same to Brendon, back before Brendon and Spencer started dating. Back then, it had been funny, but now it was just pissing Ryan off and making him jealous. Of course Jon had no issues flirting with Dallon. He wasn’t even interested in the guy. 

 

“Don’t be a dick, Jon, you just met him,” Ryan snapped. So much for his good mood yesterday. 

 

“I’m being friendly,” Jon said, pouting up at Ryan. He had a really cute pout. It was how he got away with so much shit. 

 

Dallon shrugged. “I’m fine with it. I’ve lived through weirder things in my life.”

 

Jon perked back up. Ryan instantly regretted bringing Dallon into the Pride Center. Jon was too interested in other people’s lives. “Oh? Like what?”

 

“Well, one time I was at a gay bar with two of my friends--who are both girls and are dating each other--and girls kept flirting with me instead of them,” Dallon said. “Then there was another time at the same bar where we also brought my other friend, Linda, who I think is straight? But she was definitely straight at the time but all of the girls were hitting on  _ her _ instead of my other two, actually gay friends.”

 

“That’s wild,” Ryan said. He’d never been to a gay bar. Bars weren’t his scene. 

 

“Wait, this might be weird, but is your friend Linda blonde and tall?” Jon asked. Ryan had no idea where he was going with that. 

 

Dallon nodded. “She’s blonde, but everyone’s short to me so I don’t know. She’s taller than most of our friends though, if that helps?”

 

“Is she really involved in political stuff?”

 

“Yes?” Dallon said slowly, looking over at Ryan. Ryan just shrugged. Sometimes Jon knew things that no one else did, and he’d talk about them like they were common knowledge. That, and Ryan was pretty fucking unaware of the things his friends did when they weren’t around him. 

 

“Holy shit!” Jon said, and slapped Ryan’s thigh excitedly. Ryan drew his leg back. Jon continued slapping it anyway. “Oh my God, Ryan, that’s the same Linda that Spencer’s into. That’s wild, holy shit.”

 

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked. He’d met Linda, and she didn’t necessarily come off as the kind of girl Spencer would be interested in. She was cool, she just didn’t seem like she was Spencer’s type. 

  
“We’ll only know for sure if we have Dallon’s Linda meet our Spencer,” Jon said. He pulled out his phone and started tying away. Ryan was too far to see what he was doing. “Okay, I just texted Spencer. Text your Linda and tell her to come meet you at the Pride Center as soon as she can. We’re doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it!
> 
> (Also, I've been listening to the new Paramore and FOB songs on repeat so if you want to, tell me which one you like better in the comments? Idk)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon! Linda! More fucking coffee!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These kids drink a lot of coffee, but it's okay because they're in college and so they need it to survive (trust me, I'm also in college... coffee is important).
> 
> I'd like to note that I love Jon in this universe. He's a fucker and he's great.

Linda showed up first, which was terrifying. She was smart, and Ryan didn’t know her well enough to know how to keep her from catching on to what the guys were trying to do. Also, it was one of Jon’s ideas, so it wasn’t well planned out anyway, and Spencer was going to be in class until right before Jon had to leave for his class anyway. 

 

“Is it usually this empty?” Linda asked. “I thought there were more LGBT people on campus.”

 

“Well, not everyone comes here, or even knows about it,” Jon said. “We’ve been shoved into a corner, and on one hand, that makes it harder for the homophobes to come find us and smash our windows, but on the other hand, no one knows where the fuck we are unless they have an inside link.”

 

“Accidental secret gay fight club,” Dallon said. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The Pride Center didn’t host fights, though. It mostly hosted meetings and discussion groups, and three old couches that were commonly used by tired gay students. So there was no fighting, just napping. 

 

“That should be a thing,” Linda said. “Where we go and fight homophobes. I’d be down for it.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be an upstanding student athlete who does no wrong and gives the school a good name?” Dallon asked. From the way he was smiling at her, and how Linda flipped him off in response, Ryan knew that there was an inside joke between the two of them. He never got to find out what it was, because Spencer came past the windows that looked into the pride center and waved an iced coffee at Ryan. 

 

“I’m stealing the coffee he got you,” Jon said. 

 

Dallon frowned. “Spencer brought you coffee, Ryan?”

 

“I guess,” Ryan shrugged.

 

Spencer opened the door to the Pride Center and came in. Ryan pointed at the coffee in his hands, and then at Jon, who had perked back up again. Spencer noticed the coffee Ryan was already holding and raised an eyebrow. “Dude. How could you.”

 

“Dallon bought it, don’t blame me,” Ryan said. 

 

“I can’t believe you’d choose Dallon over me,” Spencer said sarcastically, and handed the coffee over to Jon before dropping his backpack to the floor and perching himself on the desk. And then he noticed Dallon and Linda sitting on the couch on the other side of the room. Spencer’s eyes widened. “Linda? What’re you doing here?”

 

“Dallon asked me to come by?” Linda said, equally confused. Behind Spencer, Jon was drinking his iced coffee and grinning around the straw. 

 

“So you two  _ do _ know each other,” Jon said. Spencer turned around and glared at him, because he knew that Jon knew about his thing for Linda, and that Jon was doing this to be a little shit. Jon just drank from his coffee and made puppy dog eyes up at Spencer. 

 

“We’re in a class together, yeah,” Linda said. She looked from Jon to Dallon, and then to Ryan. “What’s going on?”

 

“I had nothing to do with any of this,” Ryan said, because he didn’t. This was all Jon’s idea; he and Dallon had merely been pawns. He was going to sit there next to Jon, drink his coffee, and let the other four sort their shit out. 

 

“It wasn’t anything nefarious, I promise,” Jon said. For some reason, Ryan had a hard time believing that. “Spencer had just mentioned you a few times and I wanted to see if you two knew each other or if it was all just a huge coincidence.”

 

“The school isn’t that big,” Spencer said. “You could have just asked Dallon for a picture of Linda instead of calling us all here.”

 

“Okay, first of all, that wouldn’t work because this is the first time I’ve  _ seen _ Linda, so if Dallon had shown me a picture of literally any blonde person, I would have believed him,” Jon said. He stirred his coffee around and tapped something out on his laptop. “This was the only way to confirm for sure that your friend and Dallon’s friend were the same person.”

 

“You’re a Slytherin, aren’t you?” Linda asked.

 

“What.”

 

“You’re lying, you’re covering it up with a believable story, and you're using your coffee cup to hide your face so we can't see you laughing at us,” Linda said. Jon looked offended by how accurate she was. Ryan laughed. If he wasn't on the opposite side of the room, he'd high five her. Spencer could date Linda as much as he wanted; she definitely had Ryan's approval now. Linda leaned back in her seat and grinned. “Boom.”

 

“I'm a Hufflepuff, you ass,” Jon said, pressing his hand to his chest in mock offense. “But you're a Slytherin, aren't you?”

 

“Nope, I'm a Ravenclaw,” she said. “We've actually got one of each house in the apartment.”

 

“Oh yeah, you told me about that,” Spencer said, peeking back up. Ryan thought it was cute that the two of them talked about their friends’  _ Harry Potter _ houses. Ryan didn't know what most people talked about when they were flirting and getting to know each other. He'd never done that. He just latched on to the first person who was interested and hoped for the best. 

 

“So what's Dallon's house then?” Jon asked. 

 

Dallon lifted his coffee. “A fellow badger. Breezy’s the snake and Sarah’s the lion. We have matching scarves, too, before you ask.”

 

“That's adorable,” Jon said, because he was the only one in the room who could get away with saying it. Spencer had a crush on Linda and Ryan had a crush on Dallon. Jon spun in his chair to face Ryan. “Ry still hasn't taken the test. I think he's a fucking squib.”

 

“Fuck you, Walker,  _ Harry Potter _ isn't even that good,” Ryan said. Everyone collectively gasped at him, and Ryan realised that admitting his apathy towards a classic series in front of his crush and a handful of his friends wasn't the smartest idea. Ryan shrugged and drank from his coffee, hoping that Linda wouldn't pick up on any subliminal actions. “What? It's not. JK Rowling is beating a dead horse, and it's annoying and a little bit problematic.”

 

“The skeptic has a point,” Linda said. 

 

Spencer frowned. “I can't believe you're siding with him.”

 

“I can't believe I'm witnessing  _ Harry Potter _ discourse instead of getting my homework done,” Jon said. He finished his drink and set it behind his laptop. “This is awesome. You guys need to hang out here more.”

 

“I'll do my best,” Linda said. She pulled out her phone and frowned at it. “Speaking of which, I have to go. I've got class, and then a two hour practice. How long are you guys open for?”

 

“Until nine,” Jon said. 

 

Linda nodded. “Okay, cool. I'll try to come back later, but don't count on it.”

 

“Sweet,” Jon said. Linda grabbed her things and left. Once she was out of the building and rushing down the ramp, Jon grabbed a pen and poked Spencer in the back with it. Spencer jumped off the desk, snatched the pen out of Jon’s hand, and tossed it at his face. Jon laughed. “You're adorable. Ask her out already.”

 

“I still haven't told Brendon,” Spencer said. 

 

Ryan dropped his head into her hands. “Jesus  _ fucking _ Christ, Spence. You're never allowed to tease me about my relationships ever again.”

 

“Who's Brendon?” Dallon asked. 

 

“Spencer's boyfriend,” Jon said, because he was holding the pencil holder in his lap and Spencer had nothing left to throw at him. “It's not cheating, Spencer just wants to go polyamory but he doesn't know how to tell Brendon.”

 

“We can call him here, like we did with Linda,” Dallon suggested. Ryan and Spencer both shook their heads. It was funny to have Spencer and Linda show up together, but Ryan wasn't going to force Spencer to talk to Brendon. Especially in front of other people. It would be bad for both of them. 

 

Jon made a face. “Probably not. Spence and Brendon can work their stuff out on their own.”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “We don't have to work anything out. I just have to figure out a way to explain everything without making Brendon feel like shit.”

 

“You'll figure it out,” Dallon said. “Linda’s mentioned you a few times, in a good way, so if things go well with Brendon you won’t have to worry about getting rejected.”

 

Spencer stared at him for a moment. “Linda likes me?”

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said. He pulled at a thread on the sleeve of his sweater. “Specifically, she said that you were fun to talk to and that your hair was cute. I think that counts as being into someone, though. I’m not entirely sure.”

 

“Sweet,” Spencer said. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and headed towards the door. “I’m gonna go find Brendon. If you guys wanna grab lunch with us in about an hour, feel free.”

 

“I have class, fucker,” Ryan called out as the door shut behind Spencer. He was shrugging and making a fake-sympathetic pouting face at Ryan as he walked by the window. Ryan flipped him off while drinking from his coffee. “You’d think he’d know my schedule by now, with the number of times he’s reminded me to get to class.”

 

“If none of us show up, do you think he’ll talk to Brendon?” Jon asked. He’d turned back to his paper, now that the entertainment portion of the morning had left the Pride Center. Jon pulled his feet up, leaning over the desk. “Or do you think he’ll chicken out at the last minute, again?”

 

“Are we placing bets?” Dallon asked. 

 

“Sure, why not?” Jon said. “I have two dollars and a coupon for the gyros place downtown.”

 

“No betting in the Pride Center,” Ryan said, propping his feet back up on the edge of Jon’s chair. Whenever people started to come in for their lunch breaks, they’d just have to deal with Ryan acting like he owned the place. He didn’t even work at the Pride Center, because he kept forgetting to apply and at this point he thought it was a little too late to get a job. 

 

“You don’t even work here,” Jon said. 

 

“And? That’s never stopped me from acting like I do.” Jon and Brendon, who both worked at the Center, trusted Ryan and Spencer enough to leave them alone for the ten minutes it took for either of them to go to the bathroom or grab food. Occasionally, while they were out, some committee or newspaper guy had come in, and Ryan had had to act like he knew what he was doing. So far, it was working, and neither Jon nor Brendon had gotten in trouble for letting “civilians” run the Pride Center. 

 

Jon rolled his eyes. “Go buy me a Subway sandwich, if you’re gonna be so bossy.”

 

“Isn't it the other way around?” Dallon asked. “Where the employee buys the boss food?”

 

“Shush,” Jon said. “I’m stressed. I don’t know what I’m talking about, ever.”

 

“Do you want turkey or ham?” Ryan asked, because he wanted to be helpful for once in his life. Jon would pay him back for the sandwich, later, when he wasn’t on the clock and he could wander about campus as he pleased. Jon was a trustworthy guy, and so far he hadn’t let Ryan down. 

 

“Turkey,” Jon said. “You’re the best.”

 

“I try,” Ryan said. He did a mock bow at Jon and then stood up, leaving his things behind. He would get himself something to eat as well, since he was kind of hungry and it was the normal lunch time. Ryan didn’t exactly eat on a schedule. He ate when he was hungry, or whenever he remembered to do so. Sometimes Spencer had to remind him, but no often. 

 

“Dallon, you wanna come with?” Ryan asked. He’d take any excuse to hang out with Dallon, really. 

 

Dallon shook his head. “I have to leave for class in a few minutes, and I’m not super hungry. Sorry.”

 

“It’s cool.” Ryan said. “We can always grab dinner later or something. Or coffee, since that’s all you seem to drink.”

 

“Hey, I drink other things too,” Dallon said indignantly. He leaned towards Ryan and made a face at him, looking a little like an unamused chipmunk. It was adorable. Ryan tried not to smile.

 

“Ry, sandwich, come on,” Jon said, pulling Ryan out of his gayness. “Don’t make me throw this coffee cup at you.”

 

Ryan glared at Jon. “You wouldn’t.”

 

Jon wiggled the cup of heavily diluted coffee and melted ice around. “Do you really want to find out?”

 

“Nope. I’ll be back,” Ryan said, cringing at the thought of leftover iced coffee being hurled towards him. It would get on the floor, and probably on the door, maybe on Dallon. It would be a mess, and then Jon would have to clean it up because he was supposed to be acting responsible. Ryan didn’t want to get his friend in trouble, so he left to go get himself and Jon some lunch. 

 

It was only until he was around the other side of the building, heading towards the Subway located in the English building, that he realised how obvious he’d been back there with Dallon. Jon didn’t know. Jon probably knew now. 

 

“Shit,” Ryan whispered, and walked faster. The last thing he needed was Jon interrogating his crush in the name of friendship. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Michael Jackson voice) You've been hit by, you've been struck by, a dee-pression slump!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary is about Ryan, not the reader. Unless you're in a depression slump, in which case, AYYE. RELATABLE CONTENT. 
> 
> I am not in a depression slump, but I am home for the summer with my parents and already my dad is pissing me off. This year is going to be Fun. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

“I’m going out,” Spencer said. Ryan was on the floor, on his laptop, and eating from a can of Pringles. If Spencer thought he was going anywhere, he was sorely mistaken. 

 

Rya scrolled down a bit on the short story he was supposed to be reading for class. “Cool.”

 

“On a date.”

 

“Still cool,” Ryan said. Hopefully Spencer and Brendon would go back to Brendon’s dorm room for once, instead of kicking Ryan out for an hour or two so that they could fuck. The room always smelled like sex when Ryan was let back in, and it was always awkward. Ryan didn't know how to deal with Brendon when he was Spencer’s boyfriend. He could deal with Brendon when he was just Brendon, though, but it was weird knowing that the same guy who torrented Disney movies had just been fucked in the ass by someone Ryan knew really well. 

 

There were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Acknowledging Brendon after he’d been fucked was one of them. 

 

“With Linda.”

 

Ryan choked on a Pringle. “Since when?”

 

“Two days ago,” Spencer said. “Brendon knows. He’s cool with it.”

 

“Are Brendon and Linda also dating or is it just you?” Ryan asked. He didn’t know how this whole polyamory thing was supposed to work. He’d need a committed relationship for that. 

 

“They’re not dating,” Spencer said. “They might, at some point, but not now. They don’t really know each other.”

 

“Right. That makes sense,” Ryan said, even though he was still a little lost. Did it really matter how well you knew someone? Ryan either thought someone was hot, or he didn’t. There was never any time where he sat around and wondered if he wanted to date a person. He always knew, and he usually ended up not wanting to date them. Ryan wasn’t a very good boyfriend. He didn’t want to drag someone into his issues. 

 

“Ask Dallon out,” Spencer said, pointing an accusatory finger at Ryan. Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but then Spencer opened their dorm room door and walked out, leaving Ryan alone. Ryan frowned. That wasn’t fair. Spencer had no room to talk, because he already had a boyfriend. If Linda had said no, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world, because Spencer would still have  _ someone _ who liked him. Ryan had no one, regardless of Dallon. 

 

Ryan rolled over onto his back, staring up at the lights on the ceiling. He carefully put the lid back on his can of Pringles and then hit himself in the face with it a few times. It didn’t make him feel any better. Ryan tried screaming. Didn’t work. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” He said to himself. He didn’t know how to be productive, or to make anything that people would care about. He was a failure of a person, and he was going to live and die entirely unwanted. 

 

Ryan Ross was irrelevant, and he was going to get buried as a girl because he couldn’t get his shit together and start any fucking hormones.

 

Ryan hurled the can or Pringles across the room. It hit the wall with a soft thunk, and fell to the ground. The top didn’t come off, luckily. Ryan wasn’t in the mood to clean up Pringles. He was pretty sure he’d have started crying if they did spill everywhere. Ryan wanted to get up and throw them again, just so see if he could break the can, but he couldn’t move from the floor. His limbs weren’t coordinating with him, and he was trapped. 

 

At least the carpet was soft. 

 

Ryan’s phone buzzed. He turned his head and reached out limply with his arm to grab it and hold it over his face. He tried to press the home button to see what the notification was, and instead dropped his phone onto his face. Ryan did cry then, but it was weirdly quiet and he just laid there, phone still on his face, and let the tears fall down the sides of his face and into his hair and ears. 

 

Crying on his back sucked, but Ryan was on the floor and he had a phone on his face, so he couldn’t really move. His phone buzzed again, making his nose vibrate, and Ryan almost threw it across the room because it was a bad sensation. Instead, he just yanked it off of his face and glared at the screen. It was Dallon, texting him. 

 

_ dallon: hey weird question but do you want to come over and play dnd with me and a large number of lesbians? _

 

_ ryan: i have never played dnd in my life also i’m on the floor _

 

_ dallon: bad day? _

 

_ ryan: i guess… just a weird mood _

 

_ dallon: do u want me to come over? i can bring you coffee and blankets and we can lay on the floor together? _

 

_ ryan: what about the dnd lesbians _

 

_ dallon: they’ll understand _

 

_ dallon: i would have been fifth wheeling anyway; lying on the floor sounds less awkward lol _

 

_ ryan: u used a semicolon and lol in one text bring me a slice of lemon cake too and we’ve got a deal (also when u come in ignore the pringles can on the floor) _

 

_ dallon: haha ok _

 

Ryan smiled a little, but the feeling didn’t last for very long and soon he was back to staring at his ceiling and wondering what he was doing with his life. He didn’t know if Dallon’s presence would make it better or worse. On one hand, if Dallon was with Ryan, Ryan wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. On the other hand, Ryan didn’t have enough energy to act like a normal, emotion-feeling human being. He didn’t want to freak Dallon out by being zombie-like and depressed. 

 

He set his phone on his chest and closed his eyes, but the room was too bright for him to be comfortable. The insides of his eyelids were red from the fluorescent lights above him. Ryan kept his eyes closed anyway. It was better than staring at nothing and having to admit to himself that he was completely irrelevant. 

 

His phone buzzed on his chest. Ryan ignored it. It buzzed again. The buzzing sensation felt good. Ryan wondered if his phone could also be used as a kind of vibrator, but he’d need someone to be constantly texting him for that to work. 

 

It buzzed again and Ryan frowned. Why the fuck was he thinking about sex while lying on his and Spencer’s rug? And Dallon was coming over, so it wasn’t like Ryan could masturbate to try and  _ stop _ thinking about sex.

 

There was a knock on the door, and Ryan jolted upward, his phone dropping down between his legs. Ryan managed to get up off the floor to go see who was at the door--probably Spencer, coming back for condoms or something--and was surprised to see Dallon on the other side, holding two venti coffees and a little Starbucks bag. He looked nervous. 

 

Ryan opened the door. “How’d you get up here?”

 

“I snuck in behind someone,” Dallon said, coming into the room. “He held the door open for me, which was nice, because as you can see, I don’t have any hands.”

 

“You can set them on the desk,” Ryan said, sitting back down on the floor. Dallon didn’t set the coffee and cake on the desk, and instead sat down across from Ryan, extending one hand of coffee towards him. Ryan stared at Dallon. “What.”

 

“It’s yours? I got you a hazelnut mocha; you said you liked them one time. I think,” Dallon said. His cheeks were tinted pink, most likely from the cold outside. “Also a thing of lemon cake, since you asked.”

 

“Thanks,” Ryan said. He felt a little better, because Dallon was adorable and it was nice to see someone care, but he still felt mostly like shit. He took a sip from his coffee, surprised that it wasn’t too hot to enjoy, and turned around to pull his laptop towards them. “So, uh, I’m not really up for anything, sorry.”

 

“It’s cool,” Dallon said. “I have days where I can’t do anything and just lay in bed all day. It sucks.”

 

“Wanna grab some blankets and watch shitty Netflix movies?” Ryan offered. Dallon nodded, and so Ryan told him where Spencer hoarded all of the blankets. Dallon pulled a few out while Ryan logged back onto his and Spencer’s shared Netflix account. Jon and Brendon also used it, but they didn’t have their own personal accounts, because Spencer’s dad was the official owner of the Netflix and Spencer couldn’t make him add all of his friends. Ryan was an exception because Ryan was practically Spencer’s brother. 

 

Dallon draped a blanket over Ryan’s shoulders. “Any recommendations?”

 

“I don’t watch a lot of stuff on Netflix, sorry,” Ryan said. Most of what he watched was off of old DVDs that he and Spencer got from the discount bin at Target, or it was torrented off of Jon’s computer because Jon didn’t give a shit if the school wifi saw him torrenting things. 

 

“Ever seen Brooklyn 99?” Dallon asked. Ryan shook his head and pulled his lemon cake out of the little baggie it came in. Ryan bit into it and scooted the laptop towards Dallon so that Dallon could search up the show. Dallon drank from his coffee and then started typing, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. Ryan always appreciated a guy who could fucking type. There were, unfortunately, a lot of guys who couldn’t.

 

“Here we go,” Dallon said. “It’s kind of a buddy cop show? But it’s really funny and my roommates and I have been watching it off and on. Whenever we’re not watching It’s Always Sunny or rewatching Avatar.”

 

“Do you guys watch everything together?” Ryan asked. He and Spencer watched movies together, only because they both liked to give commentary on the movies, and everyone else hated that. 

 

“Sometimes,” Dallon said. He leaned against Ryan, bumping their knees together. Ryan considered giving in and dropping his head on Dallon’s shoulder, but he still had coffee and lemon cake, and it was hard to drink coffee sideways. So he stayed upright, and let Dallon move closer while they drank their coffee and watched Brooklyn 99. 

 

It was a good show, really, which was weird for Netflix, because their selections tended to suck. Ryan couldn’t pay a lot of attention to it, though, because once he and Dallon finished their coffees, they both laid back down on the floor, propping themselves up on their elbows. Ryan, because he was feeling dangerous, hooked his ankle over Dallon’s. Dallon didn’t say anything, and gently bumped Ryan’s shoulder right before something funny happened in the show. Dallon also laughed whenever anything happened, which was adorable considering he’d already seen these episodes before.

 

“This carpet is really soft, by the way,” Dallon said. “I don’t know if I’ve told you that yet.”

 

“I think you mentioned it at one point,” Ryan said. “My memory kind of sucks, though, so who knows. But thanks, anyway. Spencer bought it. I was living in squalor last year without him to be a mom and clean shit up all the time.”

 

“Mom friends are important,” Dallon said. He wasn’t paying attention to the show any more, and was instead watching Ryan. Ryan was trying to watch and look at Dallon, which was hard, but he was managing somehow. Dallon dropped his gaze to the rug, and Ryan followed. Dallon moved his hand so that his hand was hovering over Ryan’s. Ryan turned his hand over so that it was palm up, and Dallon dropped his hand down, so that their fingers were intertwined. 

 

Neither one of them said anything about it, but Ryan had a hard time paying attention to anything else other than the warmth of Dallon’s hand against his. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than usual because I was working on Mile Marker 17 and taking a bunch of depression naps. Being in the same house as my parents sucks, I just forgot how much.
> 
> Warning for Hella Depression/lowkey suicidal thoughts. Ryan's a sad boy.

Ryan still felt weird the next morning. Dallon had helped a little, but something felt off about him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt off kilter. Like he was existing, but slightly to the left of where his body actually was.

 

He didn’t bring it up with Spencer, because Spencer was in a good mood from his date with Linda and Ryan didn’t want to ruin it. Apparently they hadn’t had sex, and had instead gone bowling, where Spencer had gotten his ass kicked. He wasn't even torn up about it, which was ridiculous considering how competitive Spencer got with most things. 

 

Ryan didn't have creative writing, which sucked, because that class had become the one he looked forward to every day. It was Dallon's fault, for being pretty and snarky and too intelligent for his own good. Ryan could listen to Dallon talk about poetry for hours, if he was given the chance. 

 

_ a voice that cuts through the waters of my twisted, ruined heart _

_ the boy is an ocean and i don't know how to swim _

_ so instead i remain on the shore, hidden under my umbrella _

_ and i watch him unravel in waves, softly, gently, perfect _

 

Ryan made a face, and turned the page in his notebook quickly. There was a reason he didn't write romantic poetry. He wasn't a romantic, and he sucked at convincing other people that he was in love, even if it was true in real life. Ryan just didn't know how to express himself in a positive light. 

 

He checked his phone, seeing that it was about ten minutes before his next class. Ryan sighed, and started packing up his stuff. He grabbed his earbuds and put them in, flipping his hood up as he left the library so that his hair wouldn't get wet from the rain. It was starting to get warm, but it wasn't at the point where it stayed warm, and the rain chilled Ryan down to his bones. He wished he had coffee, but coffee only made him think about Dallon, and Ryan was getting tired of everything reminding him about Dallon. 

 

He also wanted onion rings, for some reason. Ryan wasn't sure he even  _ liked _ onion rings. He rolled his eyes at himself and turned up his music, refusing to make eye contact with anyone he passed. 

 

Ryan wasn't paying attention, so naturally, that was how he ended up right in front of a guy barreling down the hill on a bike. Someone shouted, Ryan turned his head, and then he was being tackled down and throwing his hands out so he didn't hit the concrete face-first. 

 

He rolled over, away from whoever had pushed him. “What the fuck?”

 

“You should pay more attention,” Breezy said. She stood up, wiping her hands on her pant leg, and extended a hand to Ryan. Ryan took her hand and pulled himself up. He flipped his hoodie back on. The guy on the bike was still going. Breezy shook her head. “Seriously, you could have gotten hurt. You going anywhere, by the way?”

 

“I have class,” Ryan said, pointing to the building where his class was. 

 

Breezy’s face lit up. “Oh, hey, that's where my class is.”

 

“Convenient,” Ryan said. He was bad at small talk. It just made him nervous. He always felt like he was saying the wrong things, and that it would just be better if he didn't say anything at all. Ryan felt like he was supposed to be saying something, though. Breezy was Dallon’s friend, she was also on the school’s basketball team, and while Ryan’s university didn’t are as much about basketball as it did football, the school was still very sports-centric. Breezy was cool. If this was a high school film, she’d be one of the plastics, and this would be the scene where she took the main character (Ryan) under her wing to transform him into a hot guy who would sweep the main love interest (Dallon) off of his feet.

 

“Stairs,” Breezy said, and put her arm out in front of Ryan so that he didn’t go tumbling down the stairs that were right in front of them. 

 

Ryan shook his head at himself. “I promise I’m not usually like this. I  _ can  _ actually function as a human, I promise.”

 

“It’s okay, we all have bad days,” Breezy said. “I know Dallon gets you coffee whenever you’re feeling off, but I’m not much of a caffeine drinker, and it’s too cold for a smoothie, so… is there anything I can do to help you out?”

 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Ryan said, putting a smile on his face. The thing was, there wasn’t an easy answer for any of Ryan’s problems. He just had depression, and probably a handful of other mental issues that came from a shitty childhood. 

 

Breezy didn’t look convinced, and for a moment Ryan was worried that one of her close friends was also a mental clusterfuck and she’d picked up on some of the universal signs for  _ I’m barely holding it together and death is looking rather appealing _ . She didn’t comment on it, though, and instead said, “well, if you ever want to get smoothies, let me know. There’s a really good smoothie bar about five minutes from campus. We go there a lot, on weekends.”

 

“To deal with the hangovers, or because you actually like smoothies?” Ryan asked. 

 

Breezy grinned and raised an eyebrow. “It’s a little bit of both.”

 

“At least you’re honest,” Ryan sid, because that seemed like an acceptable response. Breezy looked amused, thankfully, and the two of them had finally gotten to where Ryan’s class was, so he said goodbye and slipped inside. He headed to the back of the room, away from most of the other people in the class, because he didn’t know any of them well and he wasn’t feeling up to talking much. 

 

Ryan dropped down into his seat and rubbed his hands across his face. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was spacing out more than usual, he was grumpy, nothing felt real… it wasn’t the depression, because Ryan  _ knew _ what that felt like. He’d been living with it for pretty much his entire life. Depression was normal. This, whatever the fuck it was, was not normal. Ryan was tired of it. He was ready to go back to being his normal amount of sad, instead of having a twisted feeling deep in his stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter what he did. It was annoying, and Ryan hated it. 

 

He didn’t pay attention much in that class, but thankfully the professor never called him out on it, and so he was able to sit back there and scratch out half-formed sentences in his notebook. Ryan felt lost. He didn’t feel like he was really existing, and that he was just floating along in the universe, meaningless in it’s vastness. 

 

Ryan only knew the class was over because everyone else was getting up and leaving. He threw his things together and put his earbuds in, heading back towards the Pride Center. He didn’t know who would be working there, but it would probably be one of this friends, and they’d let him curl up under a blanket or two. 

 

It was Jon, but there were a lot of other people in the center, too, and Ryan almost backed out because he didn’t want to deal with people at all. His throat was closing up, like it did right before he started crying, and Ryan didn’t want anyone to see him have a breakdown, if that’s what this was about to become. Jon looked up and saw Ryan before Ryan could escape, though, and said something to the other Pride Center worker who was sitting on the couch across from Jon. 

 

The other worker got up and traded seats with Jon, and Jon opened the door and leaned his head out into the hallway. “The couch in the back room is empty, if you want it?”

 

Ryan nodded. Jon stepped out and put his arm around Ryan for a moment before letting go and leading Ryan into the back room. Ryan dropped his backpack onto the floor and fell down onto the couch, pulling his legs up so that Jon had room if he wanted to stay. Jon draped a blanket over Ryan and rubbed his shoulders. “Anything I can do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ryan said, his voice cracking a little as he spoke. Ryan clenched his jaw and glared at the arm of the couch that was right in front of him. What was going on,  _ seriously?  _ This was fucking annoying. “I just feel off.”

 

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Jon asked. “I’ve got stuff I can work on, and I’ll play music if you want, it’s whatever.”

 

“Aren’t you working?” Ryan asked. He turned over onto his back so that he could see Jon, and squinted. Dull sunlight was shining in through the window, diluted by the clouds and the rain but still bright enough to get at Ryan’s head. 

 

“Andy’s covering the desk,” Jon said. “And besides, you’re my friend. If you need something, I can say it’s a Pride Center emergency, and no one will come after my ass for it.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

“Too bad, dude, because unless you tell me to get out, I’m bringing my stuff in here,” Jon said. He leaned closer, gently resting his arms on Ryan’s knees. “Between me and you, it was pretty damn distracting out there. Too many people.”

 

“You can stay, I guess,” Ryan said. “But I get veto power on songs?”

 

“Sure,” Jon said. He stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him so that Ryan was alone in the room. 

 

Ryan stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what he was even doing with his life. He was twenty years old, and he’d only had one job, never published anything, and was subsisting on a college meal plan and coffee donated to him by pretty boys. Ryan wasn’t meaningful. He didn’t have a purpose in this world, and he was slowly realising it. There was never going to be a point in his life where his writings, his creations, were shown to the world and praised beyond belief. He was just another sad, messed up kid who’d been chewed up and spit out by the American education system. 

 

He’d end up doing shitty retail until he killed himself or got bludgeoned to death in an alley somewhere. Those were his options. He didn’t even get a fucking redemption arc. Ryan would be drab and pointless until he died. 

 

“You’re probably not that interested right now, but there’s gonna be a music festival next weekend,” Jon said as he came back in with his backpack over one shoulder and his laptop cradled in his arms like a child. He was barefoot, but Ryan could see his flip flops sitting out beside the desk. “It’s about an hour and a half away, but the tickets aren’t too bad, and the lineup is better than anything we’d get here…”

 

“Maybe,” Ryan said, shrugging. Going to see a concert would probably make him feel better, but he was so fucked up right then that nothing seemed like a good idea. Ryan just wanted to lie down on the floor and become one with the carpet. 

 

“Alright, but let me know if you make up your mind,” Jon said. “Concerts are more fun with friends.”

 

“Until you lose them in a city eight hours from home,” Ryan said, thinking about the trip they’d taken last November. It was him, Jon, Spencer, and Brendon, and they’d decided to go see this band that Jon’s friend recommended over Thanksgiving break, because Spencer was the only one who could go home for Thanksgiving (Jon protested the holiday by pretending it wasn’t real, and ignoring his dad’s calls). The only problem was that the show was all the way up in New York, and they only had one car and not enough money for a motel room. 

 

Brendon had slipped off after the show, and the other three had driven around the city for hours, freaking out because they had no idea where Brendon had gone off to. Apparently, Brendon had been mistaken for some pop artist that none of the four of them had heard of, and gotten dragged into an upscale club in Manhattan. Brendon could have used it for bragging points, but he hated that people saw him as a pop star, and not the punk-goth image he was trying so hard to achieve.

 

Jon laughed a little. “Okay, good point, but if we lose Brendon this time, he can just walk back. It’s close. He’s cute, someone would feel bad for him and give him a ride.”

 

“Spencer would kill you for making his boyfriend hitchhike on his own,” Ryan said. 

 

“If that’s how I go,” Jon said, shrugging and booting up his laptop. He pulled a chair over with his toes, and then propped his legs up on it. “Besides, it’s not like I’d actually leave Brendon in a foreign city. Poor guy wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He’s been sheltered for too long.”

 

“He’s adorable, when he’s not trying to be too cool for everyone,” Ryan said. He pulled the blanket closer around his body and scooted down the couch so that he could barely see Jon over his knees. “He’s not my type, but I can see why Spence likes him.”

 

“And what about Linda?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you like her too, or has she not grown on you yet?”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Of course I like her. She didn’t take any of your shit, and she makes Spencer nervous. And happy, but it’s still funny to see him get all flustered and shit.”

 

“Sadist,” Jon said, but there was no heat behind it. Ryan appreciated that. He felt a little better, but there was still an aching in his body that wouldn’t leave him alone. Jon was like an Advil, though, relieving the pain for long enough that Ryan didn’t say fuck it and slit his wrists all the way. 

 

Ryan poked Jon with his foot. “Hey. Jon.”

 

“Yeah?” Jon asked, not looking up from whatever he was doing on his computer. Ryan wished he could get work done during the day, but he was rarely productive unless the entire world was asleep.

 

“Thanks, you know,” Ryan said. “For distracting me.”

 

“No problem. I’ve been told that I’ very distracting,” Jon said, and winked. 

 

Ryan kicked his leg. “Aaand… you ruined the moment. Good job.”

 

“Any time, Ry,” Jon said. They both knew he wasn’t talking about ruining the moment. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! 
> 
> Also, I've moved blogs to @jonwalkerpng, if you wanna come say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for vomiting/sickness. It's not graphic, but it's Ryan getting sick, so there is some description and I don't want anyone to get uncomfy because of it. 
> 
> Other than that, enjoy a chapter of the boys bantering in a car, and a reference to a real porn video. That I have seen. Multiple times. I've also made my friends all watch it.

Throwing up sucked. It sucked even more in a gas station bathroom while Ryan’s three friends and the guy he had a crush on were sitting out in the car. Ryan could blame Jon for this, if he wanted to be petty about it. Jon was the one to suggest inviting Dallon, since Linda, Sarah, and Breezy had to leave for an away game that weekend, and Dallon would be all alone. Jon was also the one to steal Ryan’s phone and text Dallon, pretending to be Ryan. 

 

Jon was not, however, the one who made Ryan sick to his stomach for no fucking reason. Ryan didn’t get carsick. One time he’d read an entire novel in a car, and he hadn’t felt anything. It had to be Jon’s car. Maybe the exhaust was sneaking in, and it smelled gross and made Ryan queasy, or maybe the road was bumpy and Ryan was just dying. 

 

This was not how Ryan wanted to die, he thought as he hurled again. Gas station toilets smelled bad enough on their own, but Ryan’s own vomit wasn’t helping. He wanted to slam his head against the toilet seat, so that he wouldn’t have to stare at it. He was cold and sweating, and he just wanted the nausea to  _ stop _ . Ryan was a… not horrible person. He didn’t deserve this. His stomach lurched again, but nothing happened, and so Ryan leaned back, carefully resting his head on the wall of the stall. 

 

He pulled out his phone and checked his notifications, but nothing important had happened while he’d been getting sick. 

 

_ ryan: hey spence i think i’m done _

_ spence: do u want me to get u anything like a gatorade or?? _

_ ryan: yes mom i’d love a gatorade. blue please _

_ spence: *ginger voice* no coffee for u _

_ spence: i’ll be by the bathrooms whenever u come out _

_ ryan: thanks _

 

He pocketed his phone and stood up, slowly. He flushed the toilet and then spent longer than usual washing his hands and splashing water on his face. Being trans, Ryan hated public bathrooms. He was in the guy’s bathroom, because it didn’t have a line and he was pretty sure he was passing, but now that he was out of the stall, he was freaking out a little. What if someone came in here and thought he was a girl? What if he got beaten up in a gas station bathroom.

 

Ryan grabbed a large handful of paper towels and started rubbing his face and his hands until his skin was raw from the rough material. 

 

Sure enough, Spencer was standing outside of the bathroom with an opened blue Gatorade in his hand. He offered it to Ryan. “I already paid. Ready to go back to the car?”

 

Ryan nodded, taking a small sip from the Gatorade and hoping he wouldn’t get sick again. They were going to be at the music fest for the entire weekend. Ryan didn’t want to ruin it by getting sick everywhere. He pressed his shoulder against Spencer’s as they walked out of the gas station, and Spencer rubbed Ryan's back before they got into the car again. Jon and Brendon were in the front seat, with the other three in the back. Dallon was in the middle, even though Jon complained that he was too tall to be in the middle. Ryan wasn't complaining, because he was the one feeling sick, and he'd rather have Dallon to curl up next to than Brendon. Not that Brendon was a bad companion, but Ryan didn't have a huge crush on Brendon. 

 

Brendon leaned around Dallon as Jon pulled out of the gas station. “Are you feeling any better?”

 

Ryan shrugged. “For now. Sorry I'm ruining the weekend.”

 

“Don't be,” Brendon said. “We’d feel worse if we left you alone to be sick for two days. What kind of friends do you take us for?”

 

“Uh, the kind that like seeing live shows?” Ryan said, somewhat sarcastically. He wouldn’t have been mad at his friends for leaving without him, because he wanted them to enjoy their lives, even when he was feeling like shit. Ryan didn’t want his friends to miss out on something cool because they were too busy taking care of him. He wasn’t worth that.

 

“Just think of it as an extra layer to the adventure,” Spencer said. “Maybe you’ll puke on one of the bands and we’ll get famous.”

 

“I’m not puking on anyone, that’s gross,” Ryan said, sliding down a little into the backseat and kicking the back of Spencer’s chair. He kind of deserved it, and it wouldn’t be the first time Ryan had pestered Spencer by kicking his seat on a road trip. They’d grown up together, practically as brothers, and so they’d annoyed each other as brothers too. 

 

“Imagine if Ryan had a puke kink, though,” Brendon said, switching from being a concerned friend to the guy who asked questions no one wanted to think about. 

 

Jon made a face, lowering his sunglasses back down to cover his eyes. “Dude, come on. Why do you only know about the weird kinks? Couldn’t you just stick to bondage and dildos like the rest of us?”

 

“I don’t have a puke kink!” Brendon exclaimed. Spencer started laughing, and Dallon looked down worriedly at Ryan. Ryan didn't have an explanation. That was just how his friends acted. 

 

Ryan reached around Dallon with his foot and kicked Brendon's leg. “Sounds like something a guy with a puke kink would say.”

 

“Ryan, shut the fuck up,” Brendon said. “You're not allowed to kinkshame anyone after that gummy bear porn you sent me.”

 

Spencer turned around in his seat. “You sent Brendon the gummy bear porn?!”

 

Ryan nodded. The gummy bear porn was a 12 minute long video of a woman stuffing an entire bowl of gummy bears up her ass, shitting them out, and then playing with her ass. It wasn't the weirdest thing out there, but it had no sound except the occasional ass squelch or human moan, so it was very uncomfortable to watch. 

 

“He captioned it with  _ is this what you do in your spare time _ ,” Brendon said, leaning around Dallon again to glare at Ryan. “Then he sent me a link to a huge fucking dildo and said it was going to be my birthday present.”

 

Ryan shrugged. “You're the one who's a size king. I'm just helping you and Spencer out.”

 

“Don't drag me into this,” Spencer said, deadpan. Ryan considered reminding Spencer which one of them originally found the gummy bear porn (it was Spencer, but they’d been searching for weird porn together). It had been a few years ago, when Spencer and Ryan were still obnoxious teenagers and Ryan thought he was a butch lesbian so he pretended to be “one of the guys” and watch porn. Now, Ryan rarely watched porn because it wasn’t relatable. He didn't have a dick. He also wasn’t a moaning girl with a vagina and inflated boobs, nor did he find those kinds of girls attractive, so he didn’t know who to pay attention to when he was watching. 

 

“You dragged yourself into it,” Jon said. “Since you sent it to me instead of linking me to that weird article about fanfiction. I still haven’t found it, by the way, and you’re still an asshole for not letting me see the in-depth, literary analysis of My Chemical Romance fanfiction.”

 

“You read an article about fanfiction?” Dallon asked. Ryan hoped that Dallon wouldn’t be judgemental. Ryan and Spencer had both grown up in fanfiction circles, with Spencer originally as the rare guy writer, and Ryan as one of many “fangirls.” It’d gotten awkward when Ryan came out to the internet as trans, because a lot of people thought he was just faking it all for the attention, or because he wanted to be like the characters he wrote. That was what made Ryan leave fandom. Spencer left because there were too many creepy people who wanted to ship him with any other guy writer who showed up. 

 

“It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done for a grade,” Spencer said. Ryan could tell, even without being able to see Spencer’s face, that Spencer was waiting in a silent judgement for Dallon’s response. 

 

“I can respect that,” Dallon said. “One time I wrote a poem about my crush and just changed the pronouns so no one could guess who it was about. No one did, thankfully, because my crush was in the class and I didn’t want him to know yet.”

 

“Your crush was a guy?” Jon asked, looking at Ryan in the rearview mirror because Jon was secretly an asshole and wanted Ryan to suffer. Ryan flipped him off, and Jon just wiggled his eyebrows. “Did it ever work out?”

 

“Don’t know,” Dallon said, averting his eyes from the other four guys in the car. “I still haven’t asked him out.”

 

“Who is it, then?” Brendon asked. Ryan wondered, momentarily, if Spencer would let him get away with murder just this once. Probably not, and Ryan didn’t want to start a massacre in Jon’s car when he murdered Spencer’s boyfriend right in front of him. It wouldn’t end well for anyone, except maybe Ryan, who wanted to die anyway.

 

“I’m not telling you guys,” Dallon said. “If you’re the type to send weird porn to each other just for fun, I don’t want to know what you’d do to your friend’s crushes.”

 

“Everything worked out fine with Linda and Spencer,” Jon said. He had a good point, unfortunately. Ryan didn’t want Dallon to admit his crush, not when Ryan was right beside him. Ryan knew the mystery guy was someone else. Ryan wasn’t very appealing, even to people who were into guys and girls. Ryan wasn’t enough of a guy to count, and he knew that people only respected his gender out of pity. No one actually saw him as a man. Ryan was just an awkward, gangly girl with an outdated hairstyle, in everyone’s eyes. 

 

“Well that’s because Linda doesn’t take anyone’s shit,” Dallon said. “And this guy isn’t Linda. Not in a bad way, or anything, but I don’t want to fuck things up.”

 

“If the four of us can fuck things up between you and your crush, then maybe you need a new crush,” Spencer said. He turned back around in his seat and dropped his sunglasses down low on his nose, looking Dallon in the eyes. “Because we’re really not that bad. Everything we do is just friendly banter and shit, and if your guy can’t handle that… he’s probably not going to last too long.”

 

“Way to sound threatening, Spence,” Ryan said, because Dallon was starting to look a little uncomfortable and Ryan didn’t want Dallon’s trip to get ruined. The only reason Ryan’s friends hadn’t started teasing Dallon was because Ryan had threatened to come after them with textbooks if they did. Ryan didn’t want Dallon to know that he had a crush on him. He was trying to keep it a secret, and if Jon, Brendon, and Spencer were constantly riling Ryan and Dallon up around each other, that wouldn’t last long. 

 

Spencer dropped back into the front seat. “I’m not being threatening.”

 

“You do have an impressive bitchface,” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan’s stomach lurched, and not in a gay way. He hunched over, and weakly tugged on Dallon’s sleeve, hoping Dallon would get the message. Dallon rubbed Ryan’s back for a moment and leaned forward. “Hey, we should probably pull over again. Ryan’s not looking too good.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes and then stuck his head down between his legs, because Dallon was right. He didn’t feel that great, but he was a stubborn asshole and he was going to go to the music festival, even if it killed him. Honestly, that wouldn’t be the worst way to die. If Ryan could get murdered by music, that would be pretty awesome, because music was one of the few things that still made him feel alive. 

 

“Is a McDonald’s going to be okay, or do you think the smell will make you hurl?” Jon asked. Ryan could hear the blinker, which meant Jon was getting off the highway regardless of Ryan’s answer, so Ryan nodded weakly, and Dallon said that McDonald’s would be fine. Ryan closed his eyes as Dallon continued to gently massage Ryan’s upper back. Dallon had nice hands, but Ryan wished he could discover that in a better situation. 

 

This was going to be an interesting weekend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed or if you want to donate soup/Gatorade to Ryan so that he gets better!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, not to be the worst person ever, but I forgot about this fic for a second. I'm not going to discontinue it because, uh, we're about to get to the interesting part and I'm not an asshole. I do want to apologise, though. Ryllon doesn't have a lot of content anyway, and I feel bad not producing more. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has progress, but only halfway, because Ryan is an insecure piece of shit and is very relatable. At all times.

Ryan was feeling better by the time they got into the festival. Hopefully it was just carsickness, and not an actual illness. He stayed near the others anyway, because he didn’t know anyone else here and he was afraid he might hurl on some stranger’s shoes. If there was someone with him, Ryan would be a lot less likely to break down and start crying if someone yelled at him for puking on their shoes.

 

As the sun started to set, Ryan started to shiver. His leather jacket just wasn’t keeping him warm enough. Dallon noticed that Ryan was shivering and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ryan pressed up against him, yelling over the music, “thanks, Dal! I’m usually not this frail!”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dallon said, squeezing Ryan closer. Jon, Brendon, and Spencer were a few people ahead of Ryan and Dallon, and they were jumping and screaming along to the lyrics. Usually, Ryan would be up there with them, but he was still feeling a little down. It wasn’t too bad, though, because Dallon didn’t seem to know the words, and he wasn’t much of a jumper. 

 

Dallon was warm in the dark, and Ryan liked looking at him in the flashing neon lights. He looked good in every colour that was flashed on his face, and Ryan really wanted to kiss him. Ryan wondered how Dallon would react. Would he freak out? Would he let it happen? Would it ruin their friendship entirely and make for an awkward ride back two days from now? Ryan felt weirdly energised at the thought of it all. It’d be risky, and reckless, and it would probably backfire, but Ryan wanted to do it anyway. 

 

Besides, it’s not like anyone would see it. They were all watching the show. Dallon was watching the show too, with a wide grin and his eyes lit up and reflecting sharply in the neon. He was gorgeous. Ryan wanted him alone. He wanted to tangle his hands in Dallon’s hair and kiss him until Dallon was gasping for breath. He could imagine what Dallon would sound like, head tipped back, letting out soft, high-pitched moans, falling apart under Ryan’s mouth. 

 

Fuck, something was wrong with Ryan. He didn’t get horny, not like this. He’d fantasise about fucking people, usually people he knew, but not in public and never when the person of interest was right there, with an arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Wanna get closer?” Dallon yelled over the music, looking down at Ryan with the same silly grin on his face. Ryan couldn’t say no, not when Dallon looked that happy and that good, and damn… he was in deep. So he nodded and wrapped an arm around Dallon’s waist, noting the slight dip of his hipbones and thinking about what a hickey would look like there, against the skin. Dallon pulled Ryan forward, and Ryan came willingly. 

 

They were three or four rows back from the barrier. Jon and Spencer were to their left, with Brendon shirtless and on top of Spencer’s shoulders, yelling at the band. For a second, Ryan wondered where Brendon’s shirt and faux leather jacket had gone off to, but then he realised that he didn’t care too much. Brendon had Spencer, if he ever got cold. Brendon was allergic to being fully dressed, anyway. Ryan was surprised that it had taken him that long to start stripping.

 

Someone bumped into Dallon, pushing him over so that he fell towards Ryan. Dallon reached out, placing his hands on Ryan’s shoulders, gripping him tightly. Ryan threw his arms out, splaying his hands across Dallon’s stomach. The flannel was soft against Ryan’s fingers, and he could feel Dallon breathing. Ryan’s eyes flicked up Dallon’s body, from his waist to his eyes. His mouth was slightly parted. Dallon swiped his tongue across his lips. His eyes dropped down and he stood up. “Sorry. I didn’t--”

 

“It’s fine,” Ryan said. And then, fuck it, he leaned up on his toes, pulled Dallon in by his waist, and kissed him full on the mouth. Dallon’s hands flew up to Ryan’s face as he tilted his head for a better angle, parting his lips and swiping his tongue across Ryan’s. Ryan licked into Dallon’s mouth, pressing his tongue against Dallon’s and hoping desperately that he tasted like emergency toothpaste and not stale vomit. Ryan didn’t want to ruin the moment.

 

Ryan dropped his hands down to Dallon’s hips, hooking his fingers into Dallon’s belt loops and pulling him flush against Ryan’s body. Ryan trailed his hands up under Dallon’s shirt, feeling the smooth skin of Dallon’s lower back. He was warm, and he felt good. Ryan wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere where there weren’t people, and fuck the shit out of him. 

 

As Ryan moved his hands around towards Dallon’s stomach, Dallon jerked back. He pulled his shirt down, smoothing the fabric out, and refused to look at Ryan. Dallon swallowed. “I have… I have to go, I’m sorry.”

 

Dallon disappeared into the crowd, and Ryan let him go. He felt like he was going to throw up again, but for an entirely different reason. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, pitying him. To them, he looked like a guy who’d just gotten dumped by his boyfriend. It wasn’t even that. It was worse; it was an impulsive move that hadn’t paid off, and now Ryan felt like crying. Crying and running back to the tent they’d set up 

 

Instead of running, Ryan pushed forward, towards his friends. He wasn’t sure where Dallon had gone, and in that moment, he wasn’t too concerned with finding out the answer. Ryan grabbed Spencer’s arm, careful not to knock him off balance and send Brendon flying. Spencer reached up and wiped his bangs off of his forehead before turning to Ryan. His expression immediately became concerned when Ryan’s face was lit up by the lights. “What happened?”

 

“I need space,” Ryan said. He wrapped his arms around himself, hoping that Spencer understood what that meant. 

 

Spencer nodded, and patted Brendon’s leg to get his attention. “Hey, Ryan and I are gonna step out for a sec. You have to get down, B.”

 

Brendon nodded, and slid off of Spencer’s shoulders. He leaned up and kissed Spencer for about a minute before jumping into Jon’s arms and crawling up onto his shoulders. It was a good thing that Spencer and Jon were strong, because Brendon was a climby little fucker and Ryan had the upper body strength of a newborn baby. 

 

Once Brendon and Jon were re-settled, Spencer took Ryan’s hand and led him out through the crowd. Once they were away from the noise and the crowds, Spencer found an open patch of grass and pulled Ryan down beside him. Ryan pulled his legs up to his chest and dropped his head down to his knees. “So, I did somethings stupid.”

 

“What was it?” Spencer asked. 

 

Ryan winced pre-emptively. The farther away he got from the moment he’d kissed Dallon, the stupider of an idea it seemed. Ryan was trans, Dallon was cis, and he was in the closet on top of that. Ryan was never one to push someone out of the closet, but he knew that if he and Dallon were ever anything, they’d be seen as straight. No one saw Ryan as a guy. Probably not even Dallon, even though he acted like it. Ryan was surprised Dallon had never misgendered him. Most people fucked up at least once in front of Ryan. Ryan had stopped bothering to correct them at this point.

 

Ryan close his eyes for a moment, holding back the tears and ignoring the knot in his throat. “I kissed Dallon.”

 

“Ry, that’s not stupid,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

 

“He ran away,” Ryan snapped back, his voice cracking as he spoke. “So yeah, it actually was stupid, and I shouldn’t have fucking bothered, because now he probably thinks I’m some kind of fucking nympho--”

 

“Or he was just caught off guard,” Spencer said. Spencer was the voice of reason in their friendship, except for when he was being dumb around one of his crushes. Spencer was dating both of his brushes now, though, so there was nothing left for him to be dumb about. Spencer sat up, craning his neck to look back at the crowd. “Did you just leave him there?”

 

“No,” Ryan said. “I don’t know where he is.”

 

“Do you want to find him?” Spencer asked. Ryan was glad he was given the option. Most people would just drag Ryan off and make him confront his issues. Spencer knew to give Ryan some time. It took Ryan a while to be emotionally ready for anything. So many of Ryan’s life decisions were made for him, that it was nice to choose. Even if all he did was put things off so he didn’t have to deal with them. 

 

“Not yet. He knows where we were, and he knows where we put the tent, so it’s whatever,” Ryan said. He needed some space to stop hating himself. People embarrassed themselves in front of their crushes all the time. Ryan had been kissed by people he wasn’t interested in before, and it hadn’t killed the friendship. Sleeping with them, on the other hand, had killed the friendship. Ryan hadn’t slept with Dallon, though, so hopefully he hadn’t fucked everything up. 

 

“You wanna walk around, or do you want to go back to the show?” Spencer asked after the two of them had been sitting in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Ryan could still hear the concert, because they weren’t that far away, and he could still see the crowd of people dancing and trying to get closer to the stage. Ryan wanted to go back, and enjoy the show, and he didn’t want to keep Spencer from having a good time, but he was still shaken up about Dallon. His stomach was still in knots, and he felt like he was existing slightly to the left of where his body really was.

 

Ryan shrugged. “We can go back. I’ll be okay.”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you’re not ready, we don’t have to. You’re part of the friend group, and there are other bands I want to see here, so I’m not missing much.”

 

“I don’t want to be a drag…”

 

“You’re not. Trust me Ry, you’re not,” Spencer said, softly. Ryan let out a sigh, and nodded. He didn’t entirely believe Spencer, but he was tired of arguing. If walking around the festival with Spencer would make him happy, then Ryan would do that. Besides, he could still hear the music from where they were, and the festival grounds weren’t  _ that _ big. 

 

“Okay, let’s uh… let’s walk around,” Ryan said. “Fresh air is good, right?”

 

“We’re outside, all of the air is fresh,” Spencer said as he stood up. He extended his arm to Ryan and Ryan pulled himself up as well. 

 

It’d been a while since Ryan had hung out with just Spencer. They’d been best friends since they were both kids, and they’d grown up with each other, so there was always a certain level of familiarity and comfort between the two of them. Spencer felt like home when Ryan wasn’t sure that he had one, and Ryan needed that tonight. 

 

They started walking around the festival grounds, towards the smaller stages that were also lit up. Ryan didn’t recognise the music playing, but the light show from the second stage was cool, and there were bubbles floating through the air. He reached around Spencer and swatted at one, attempting to pop it. It blew away. Spencer leaned back and poked the bubble, and it popped in a little spray of bubble juice. 

 

“What the fuck are bubbles even made of?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Soap?” Spencer said. “I don’t know. I just blow them.”

 

“That’s what she said.”

 

“I will throw you into the grass,” Spencer said, and jumped up to pop another bubble that had floated their way. 

 

Ryan laughed. “That’s  _ also _ what she said.”

 

“What kind of sex are you having?” Spencer asked, and it sounded like he was kinkshaming Ryan for his metaphorical grass sex. He turned and made a face. “Wait. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

 

“Yeah, just like I didn’t want to know that you bought Brendon nipple clamps for his Christmas present,” Ryan said. 

 

Spencer grinned and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, that’s not even the kinkiest thing we have.”

 

“I know, I share a room with you,” Ryan said. “You seriously need to work on hiding your sex toys better. I don’t know what half of that shit is used for, and at this point, I’m too afraid to use Google.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed, and feel free to come say hi to me on tumblr before it goes entirely to shit! My tumblr's @wsyict, btw


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone: Ryan, you should probably tell Dallon about your feelings. It would just make everything easier, and there's a pretty high chance that he's into you anyway.
> 
> Ryan: uhhh how about death
> 
> (I'm not projecting onto Ryan because of my current crush situation whaaaat)

The next morning was awkward. Brendon and Jon didn’t know what was going on with Ryan and Dallon, and why they were avoiding each other. Spencer was sitting next to Brendon and watching Dallon very carefully. Ryan was focusing on eating his Poptart and not thinking about Dallon in any way. 

 

It didn’t help that he was horny as shit, for some dumb reason. It also didn’t help that Dallon looked really good with sleep-tousled hair and day old stubble on his face. Life wasn’t fair, and Ryan’s stomach was tied up in knots and his throat was tight too. He wanted to scream, and also to lie face down in the grass and just… crunch the fucking dirt or some shit. He was tired of having phantom tastes of Dallon on his lips. 

 

Dallon wouldn’t even look at Ryan. Every time Ryan looked up from his Poptart, to see if Dallon was paying attention to him or not, Dallon would be looking somewhere else. He looked slightly pissed off, like he couldn’t believe that Ryan Ross was still being creepy and staring at him. Ryan was an idiot, obviously. He’d ruined the weekend, first by getting sick on the way over, and then again last night, by making out with Dallon. Dallon wasn’t interested, and Ryan shouldn’t have done anything. Not everyone was interested in mindless hook-ups that meant nothing afterwards.

 

“Ry, wanna go see if there’s any merch left from last night?” Jon asked. It wasn’t really a question. Jon was observant enough to notice that Ryan was uncomfortable, and smart enough to know better than to ask Ryan was what wrong when there were people around.

 

Ryan ate the last of his Poptart and crumpled the wrapper into a ball. “Sure. Do you know where the merch tables even are?”

 

“No idea,” Jon said. He stood up and slung one arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “But that’s part of the adventure.”

 

Ryan shook his head and let Jon lead him around the grounds in search of merchandise. Jon had a lot of strange talents, and one of them was being able to find good, cheap merch at any show. Sometimes, he’d show up with an armful of t-shirts that he’d found for free. Jon didn’t go out looking for cheap merch, but he found it anyway. Ryan was pretty sure that Jon and band shirts were on the same wavelength with each other. It was pretty cool, and it was convenient. Ryan didn’t have a lot of money, and band merch was expensive. 

 

“So what happened with you and Dallon?” Jon asked. “You both disappeared last night, but not in the same direction.”

 

“I kissed him, he fled, I currently hate myself,” Ryan said, keeping his voice flat. 

 

“Don’t you always hate yourself, though?” Jon asked. Ryan pinched his side, and Jon moved away from Ryan. Both of them were laughing. Jon didn’t dance around Ryan’s depression, or baby Ryan for it. 

 

“Yeah, but imagine making out with a guy that you have to hang out with for the rest of the weekend,” Ryan said. He made finger guns at Jon. “Now  _ that’s _ what I call embarrassing.”

 

“It’s not the worst you could do. You could pull a Spencer and ask him out in the middle of class,” Jon said. He was walking backwards, and barefoot, even though it was about fifty-five degrees out and there was still dew in the grass. Ryan didn’t understand Jon, sometimes. “It worked out for Spence, but I mean, it’s Spence. He’s got a face you can’t resist.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “We get it, you have an undying boner for my roommate.”

 

“I do not,” Jon said, pausing to cross his arms and look indignant. He wiggled his eyebrows. “You have to admit he’s kind of hot, though.”

 

“Don’t associate with me,” Ryan said, blankly, and pushed Jon backwards. Jon reached out and grabbed Ryan’s sleeve, pulling him down onto the grass as well. One of Ryan’s elbows jabbed Jon in the chest, and the other slammed into the grass. Ryan flipped over onto his back and stared at the sky for a moment. Jon took the oppurtunity to drop a handful of grass on Ryan’s face. “You’re gay now.”

 

Ryan swatted at Jon’s face and spat grass out of his mouth. “I’ve been gay this entire time, fucker.”

 

“Neeeewsflash, asssshole,” Jon said, perfectly imitating Glenn Howerton. “Ryan’s been gay this entire Goddamn time!”

 

“I’m going to throw you into the grass again,” Ryan said, and tossed some of the excess grass back at Jon. Jon laughed, because Jon was unphased by everything, and the two of them got back up again. 

 

They finally found the merch area, and spent around thirty minutes meandering around as Jon worked his magic and they searched for shirts. Ryan had no idea what Jon was doing, so he mostly hung back and just watched. There weren’t too many people buying merch, because most people bought stuff right after the show, and today’s shows hadn’t started yet. Jon was making use of the empty merch tables and talking animatedly to one of the guys about something. Ryan couldn’t make it out. He was acting like he was deciding which shirt he wanted, when in reality he was just waiting on Jon. 

 

Jon finally came back, holding five shirts of different sizes. He handed them off to Ryan and shoved his wallet back into his jeans. “Guess how much.”

 

“For each, or in total?” Ryan asked. They’d been listed as 20 dollars each, but Ryan knew Jon hadn’t paid that much for a single shirt. Jon rarely carried more than 40 dollars with him, anyway, and he didn’t use credit cards. 

 

“Total.”

 

“Shit, uh,” Ryan looked down at the shirts, as though they would help him figure out Jon’s bargaining skills. “Thirty?”

 

“Close,” Jon said. “Eighteen and a poptart. The guy was hungry.”

 

“You’re amazing,” Ryan said. He fluttered his eyelashes at Jon, acting like a lovestruck fan, and Jon pushed his face away. Ryan laughed, feeling a bit better now, and followed Jon back to the tent. Dallon was still there, but Brendon and Spencer had disappeared. Probably to go make out. They tended to do that whenever they got the chance. Ryan couldn’t blame them; if he had someone to make out with all the time, he’d abuse the shit out of that opportunity. Making out was awesome.

 

“We got shirts,” Jon said to cut through the silence. “I had to guess on your size, but if this doesn’t fit, I can probably go change it out. The merch guy liked my taste in music.”

 

“Is that how you always get cheap shit?” Ryan asked, dropping down into the seat beside Dallon. His stomach lurched for no reason, and he felt a wave of nausea cross his body. Ryan cringed. 

 

“I’m not giving away my secrets,” Jon said. He handed Ryan his shirt, and Ryan considered changing into it. There was nowhere private he could go, though, and he wasn’t about to start stripping in public. He still had to wear a binder. He didn’t want to expose himself and get a bunch of judgemental looks. 

 

“It, uh, it looks a little big,” Dallon said. He was holding his shirt out, and it looked large enough to fit Spencer and Ryan both into it. Either Jon was really bad at guessing people’s sizes, or he’d done it on purpose. And considering how often Jon got his friends clothes for their birthdays, Ryan figured the latter. 

 

Jon reached out across the little circle the five of them had made earlier. “Shit, you’re right. I can go get you a smaller one.”

 

“I can do it,” Dallon said. 

 

“Yeah, I’m sure you can, but the guy might make you pay full price, and then I’d feel like an asshole,” Jon said. He wiggled his fingers at Dallon. “I promise it won’t take long. I’m not taking Ryan, so we won’t get distracted and start throwing grass at each other.”

 

Dallon looked over at Ryan with a confused expression, but Ryan was too focused on not getting nauseated again to notice. Jon got the shirt from Dallon and disappeared, leaving Dallon and Ryan alone with each other. Jon was either a genius, or a fucking dumbass. Ryan was never sure. 

 

“So, um, about yesterday…” Dallon started. Ryan considered letting himself throw up. He was on his back, so there was a chance he’d just choke on his own vomit and die. It wouldn’t be pretty, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his impulsive actions. 

 

Ryan sighed and closed his eyes, and wondered why he was getting sick now of all weekends. “What about it?”

 

“Is that, like, a thing, or were you--”

 

“I make out with people all the time, Dallon,” Ryan said. That was true. The making out usually led to sex, though, but Ryan wasn’t ready to have sex with Dallon. He wasn’t ready to get judged for having the wrong anatomy. He didn’t think he could handle it. “It doesn’t mean anything. Sorry for throwing myself at you.”

 

“It’s cool,” Dallon said. “I just… shit, this is going to make me sound like the most boring person in the world, but that was the first time I’d kissed anyone.”

 

Ah. Ryan’s reputation as being a selfish dick was still holding strong. He wanted to die. Like, have an asteroid come down and impale him directly, kind of death. Because now he’d made Dallon feel like their kiss didn’t mean shit, and he’d taken Dallon’s first kiss away from him, and he still had feelings for the guy. Ryan wanted to cry, but that would just make things weird. Who the fuck starts sobbing when they find out they were someone’s first kiss? Ryan Ross, apparently, but Ryan Ross was a fucking mess. 

 

“Sorry,” Ryan said. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”

 

“Ryan. It wasn’t bad,” Dallon said. Ryan opened his eyes in time to see Dallon rolling his. “I’m not upset, or anything. And sorry for running off, too. I’m, uh, I guess I’m more of a prude than I thought I’d be.”

 

“It was you’re first kiss,” Ryan said.  _ Ow, ow, ow. I stole the guy’s first kiss. _ “You’re not supposed to want to go all the way the first time you kiss someone. I shouldn’t have rushed you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have even kissed you. I really don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

“I’m not complaining about any of it, Ry,” Dallon said. Ryan wished he was. It would hurt less. “I just wanted to apologise for making it into a big deal.”

 

“It kind of is,” Ryan said, because he hated himself and he liked the feeling of his own heart breaking. “I mean, first kisses are important. You’re never supposed to forget your first.”

 

“Well, I won’t forget it,” Dallon said. There was a crooked smile on his face, like he was considering laughing but he didn’t want to upset Ryan. He needed to stop being so perfect. Ryan was never going to get over his feelings for Dallon if the guy kept this shit up. “If I had to choose where I had my first kiss, a late night concert, almost at the front row, would definitely be in my top five.”

 

“So it doesn’t matter that you didn’t like the guy you kissed?” Ryan asked. “Because that seems like a bit of a game-changer.”

 

Dallon rolled his eyes. “I’m twenty-two and I’ve never been kissed, Ryan. I gave up on experiencing my true love’s kiss a long time ago. I still want a relationship with someone, at some point before I die, but at least I won’t be walking into it as a total virgin.”

 

“Kissing someone isn’t the same as losing your virginity,” Ryan said. 

 

“Shh, let me have this,” Dallon said. And like that, things between them were okay again. Ryan still felt weird, and a little upset that Dallon didn’t have feelings for him, but it was okay. They were the same as before. Ryan was still pining over Dallon, and Dallon still had no idea about it. It wasn’t what Ryan wanted, but it was okay. Ryan could live with this. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! Also, I'm still in Europe with limited time to write, so I can't promise another update until the end of the month/early August. I will be back, though. I promise!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life update: hopefully I'll have a job by Friday, and then I start back at school in about two weeks. Yay. Time to start screaming about things that aren't fictional. 
> 
> Please enjoy more angsty Ryan

Ryan was throwing up again, this time in a porta-potty. The smell was not helping him in the slightest. Having Dallon waiting anxiously on the other side of the door wasn’t helping either, but in a totally different way. Ryan hated himself for being self-conscious. Why did it matter if Dallon heard him throwing up or not? Spencer, Jon, and Brendon had all witnessed Ryan getting sick from his cramps, and they were still friends with him. It wasn’t relevant. Ryan didn’t need to act like he cared. 

 

Ryan hated that he felt sick. He just wanted to enjoy the Goddamn festival without feeling like he was about to puke everything up. It wasn’t an all-day experience, thankfully, but it still sucked. It was like Ryan’s body needed three hours every morning to make itself sick, and then Ryan was fine for the rest of the day. It was the weirdest, worst case of a stomach flu Ryan had ever had. He just hoped Spencer didn’t hear about it. 

 

Spencer would probably make Ryan lie down all day, and not go jump around at a show tonight. Ryan didn’t want to lie down, because he was  _ fine _ . He was a little under the weather, sure, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d survived worse. 

 

Ryan also knew that the last thing he needed for his mental health was to go lie down somewhere where he wouldn’t have anything to distract himself from all of the thoughts inside his head. 

 

He leaned back on his feet, careful not to touch the side of the porta-potty. It was most likely covered in grime and shit Ryan didn’t want on the back of his t-shirt. He stood up, carefully, shaking a little. Throwing up sucked. It sucked more when there wasn’t even a sink in the porta-potty, and Ryan just had to hope that he didn’t look like absolute shit when he opened the door to face Dallon again. 

 

Dallon still looked concerned, but his expression didn’t get any more severe when he noticed Ryan. He hovered behind Ryan when Ryan went over to the water coolers that had been set up for people to wash their hands with. Ryan rinsed his hands off and then cupped water in his hands, splashing his face. He still felt gross, but he couldn’t stay in there all day. It smelled, and it was cramped, and eventually people would have started banging on the side and demanding he get out, because it was their turn and there were only so many toilets on the grounds. 

 

Ryan wanted to avoid all that. So he put on a confident face, and lied through his teeth, saying he was fine. He crossed his arms over his chest as he and Dallon started walking through the growing crowd. “You know, I kind of want food.”

 

“You just got sick,” Dallon said. “I’m no doctor, but I don’t think eating right after getting sick is the best idea. Besides, shouldn’t you at least brush your teeth or something first? Puke breath is like morning breath, and neither of those go well with food.”

 

“I will buy you a corndog if you never compare anything in front of me again,” Ryan said, scrunching up his nose. “Because that metaphor, while accurate, was not something I ever wanted to think about.”

 

“I’m in a writing class with you. Keep the corndog,” Dallon said. “I don’t like corndogs, anyway.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Well what do you like? Burgers? Fried? Everyone fucking loves French fries; they’re literally just potatoes but tastier.”

 

“What if someone had a potato allergy?”

 

“Then that would suck for them,” Ryan said. He’d never heard of anyone being allergic to potatoes, of all things. Potatoes didn’t have anything in them that a person could be allergic to. They were just potatoes. “I don’t think potato allergies are a real thing, though.”

 

“You’d be surprised. There was a guy I knew in middle school who was allergic to mangoes of all things,” Dallon said. He frowned, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. “Mangoes are good, too. The girls make a lot of smoothies, for workouts, and they tend to have mangoes.”

 

“I’ve never had a mango,” Ryan said. 

 

“You should,” Dallon said. “They’re the best fruit.”

 

“Take me out for a smoothie when we get back to campus, then, if you’re so obsessed with mangoes,” Ryan said, a smile creeping onto his face. He noticed a food stand and grabbed Dallon’s elbow with the intention of pulling him over. Dallon was taller than Ryan, though, and hadn’t been sick the entire weekend, so he didn’t budge. Ryan glared at him. “Dallon. Come on, food.”

 

“You’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating greasy shit,” Dallon said.

 

“You hang out with healthy people too much,” Ryan said, shaking his head and tugging at Dallon again. “I’ll be fine. Lets get hotdogs.”

 

Dallon didn’t look too eager about it, but he followed Ryan over to the food stand anyway. Dallon didn’t get anything, except for another water bottle. Ryan got a water and a cheeseburger, which smelled okay, but Ryan wasn’t sure how fresh it was, seeing as there wasn’t a grill anywhere nearby.

 

Jon, Spencer, and Brendon were still gone when Dallon and Ryan returned. There was a band starting in about ten minutes that Brendon liked, but Ryan didn’t care for, and so the five of them had split up. Spencer liked Brendon, and Jon liked bands, so they’d gone off with Brendon and left Dallon in charge of keeping Ryan from doing something too dumb. 

 

Considering that the last time Ryan had been left alone with Dallon, he’d kissed the guy, Ryan didn’t think that was the best idea. 

 

“How do you guys find these bands?” Dallon asked. “I think I’ve only heard of, like, three of them.”

 

“Jon knows everyone, Brendon’s in his rebellious phase, and Spence and I grew up idolising way too many punk bands,” Ryan said. He shrugged. “It’s just a lucky combination of people, I guess. We also didn’t have a lot of friends as kids, so we weren’t spending Christmas money on anything else. Concerts were a lot better than cocaine.”

 

“My parents would have disagreed with you, but I think you’re right,” Dallon said. He leaned back in his chair and took a long drink of water. “Although, there is a lot of weed here.”

 

“Festivals are like that,” Ryan said. “It’s supposed to keep everyone calm, but I’ve never tried it so I wouldn't know.”

 

“Would you ever want to try it?” Dallon asked. He was watching Ryan again, and Ryan felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him. He set what was left of his cheeseburger down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Dallon was still watching him. Dallon swallowed, running his hand through his hair. “I mean, like, weed. Would you do it, or are you straight edge with everything?”

 

“Mainly alcohol, but I've never been offered weed so I wouldn't know,” Ryan said. That, of course, was a lie. During his first semester in college, he'd gone to a party with Dan, and had been offered weed by some of the guys there (one of whom turned out to be Jon). Ryan had panicked, still in the mindset of being a teenager and under the watch of his dad, but that Ryan was pretty far gone now. Ryan was more independent now. He was still slightly afraid of his dad, and he still looked over his shoulder more than most people, but he was growing. 

 

“I’ve only had alcohol,” Dallon said. “I’m kind of boring.”

 

“I’d have to disagree with that,” Ryan said. “If you ever want to try anything, I’ll be your wingman. Or whatever. I don’t know if you need a wingman for drugs.”

 

Dallon laughed. “I don’t think so. I know you’re not supposed to go drink alone, but I doubt anyone’ll try and take advantage of the kid in the corner smoking his own weed.”

 

“It’s called a joint,” Ryan said. Dallon raised an eyebrow. Ryan mimicked taking a drag with his fingers. “Smoking a weed? No one says that. You smoke a joint.”

 

“Are you sure you’ve never had weed before?” Dallon asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Ryan. Ryan considered shoving him playfully, but their kiss was still fresh on his mind and he didn’t want to remind himself about that. It was a mistake Ryan didn’t want to make again. 

 

He rolled his eyes instead. “I’m sure. I have friends, though. And they’re not all health freaks like your roommates. No offense to your roommates, obviously.”

 

“Obviously,” Dallon said, but he was still smiling. Ryan hadn’t crossed any lines. He always worried that he'd go too far with a joke or sarcastic comment, and he'd stop being funny and start being a total asshole. 

 

Ryan didn't want to be an asshole, especially not to Dallon. He liked Dallon, even though things were awkward between the two of them because of the kiss. Ryan's feelings hadn't faded. He couldn't see them going away any time soon, either. Dallon was just too… perfect. He was dorky and charming, and he cared about Ryan and Ryan didn't know what to do with someone so awesome. 

 

“You know my roommates aren't health freaks, right?” Dallon said after a while. The two of them were sitting around the tent, watching the people go by. There was no tension. 

 

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “They own a blender. I saw  _ kale _ in your fridge. That's not how college kids live.”

 

“Most people have a blender,” Dallon argued. “They make life easier.”

 

“Only if you eat fruit,” Ryan said. He couldn't remember the last time he had fruit. He liked fruit, he just didn't eat it a lot because he and Spencer didn't keep fruit in their mini fridge and Ryan didn't trust the fruit at the cafeteria. No one with braincells ate cafeteria produce. It was always old and disappointing. 

 

Dallon was looking at Ryan strangely. “Ry, fruit's important. It's good for you.”

 

“I know, and I eat fruit. Just not for every meal of the day,” Ryan said. “And definitely not enough to need a blender for it.”

 

“Invest in a blender, Ryan,” Dallon said. He opened his water back up and drank from it, staring at Ryan over the lid as he did so. He swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips. Ryan really wished he wasn't the stereotypical slutty bisexual and that he could go longer than five minutes without thinking about how much he wanted to make out with Dallon's stupidly beautiful face. Unfortunately, Ryan was entirely useless when it came to having feelings, and he was going to be stuck with them for the rest of his life. 

 

At least he had poetry to vent everything out. He didn’t know who he’d be if he couldn’t write out all of his issues and have no one read them. It was the only healthy coping mechanism he had left in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! And feel free to come say hi to me on twitter @fluffydallon!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit shorter than usual but I needed to end this chapter where I did for the sake of Drama. I do everything for the sake of Drama, just see nohic. 
> 
> Uh, warning for discussion of illness/some topics that might trigger dysphoria?

 

It started to warm up during the next week. Midterms were coming up, and so everyone was busy and Ryan didn’t get to see as much of his friends as he usually did. He spent a lot of time in the pride center and the library, because Spencer and Brendon were using the dorm room as a study space, and Ryan didn’t trust them enough to keep their hands off each other. Linda showed up at the pride center occasionally, usually taking the spot next to Ryan on the couch when she did. 

 

Ryan appreciated that. Linda was a quiet worker, with her laptop up and her earbuds jammed in. The pride center wasn’t a studying area, but it was one of the few areas where Ryan felt comfortable. It was nice to not have to worry about someone sitting beside him and starting up a conversation when Linda was there with him. 

 

He was still getting sick in the morning, but it had gotten to the point that Ryan didn’t even notice it. He just drank more fruit punch and stole from Brendon’s CapriSun stash. He didn’t have health insurance, so it wasn’t like he could just go talk to a doctor about it. He was hoping it was just a stress thing and that he’d stop getting sick after midterms. 

 

“You look like shit,” Linda said as she dropped down beside Ryan. She looked him up and down, holding her earbuds in one hand and her laptop in the other. She frowned. “Have you been eating okay?”

 

“It’s just stress,” Ryan said. He didn’t like talking about getting sick with people. Even Spencer worried too much about Ryan’s health, and since Linda was dating Spencer, there was a chance she’d take it back to him. Ryan didn’t want Spencer worrying about him. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I wouldn’t, but Dallon mentioned you being sick last weekend,” Linda said. She slowly reached out and pressed the back of her hand to Ryan’s forehead. “You don’t feel too warm.”

 

“I’ve been getting sick, yeah, but it’s not an issue,” Ryan said. He leaned away from Linda’s hand. “I’m staying hydrated, I’m eating food, I’m taking Advil whenever I get a headache, I’m fine. It’s just midterms.”

 

“How often are you getting sick? Every day? Every few days?” Linda asked. Ryan rolled his eyes. He felt like he was ten years old again, with the swine flu, and sitting in the doctor’s office with Spencer’s mom and Spencer’s pediatrician because Ryan’s own dad was too drunk to drive Ryan out to a clinic to get him medicine. 

 

Ryan sighed. “Most mornings, I guess. It’s only been since the weekend, though. Probably because I eat shit late at night.”

 

Linda nodded. “Have you had any specific foods that make you feel gross?”

 

“Meat’s started making me gag,” Ryan said, frowning. He didn’t see how that had to do with anything. The meat thing was probably because he’d been around Brendon for too long, and Brendon’s entire Facebook feed was just disturbing videos of all the horrible practices that went into creating steaks. Brendon was becoming  _ that _ kind of vegan, and if Spencer wasn’t head over heels for the guy, Ryan would have unfriended him weeks ago. “And Spencer and Jon switched the coffee they use, and it smells like ass before they put cream in it. But that’s it.”

 

Linda narrowed her eyes, looking at Ryan strangely. “Have you been tired recently?”

 

“I’m always tired.”

 

“Like, more than usual,” Linda said. She didn’t get it. Ryan had depression, and when he wasn’t too depressed to get out of his bed before noon, he was so filled with anxiety that even the simplest tasks exhausted him. He had no idea how he was surviving, honestly.

 

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe. What, is fatigue and vomiting a sure sign that I have stomach cancer or something, and that I’m going to die in two weeks?”

 

“No, but getting sick in the morning, having aversions to random foods, and being tired are usually signs of pregnancy,” Linda said. “Which doesn’t make sense because you’re a guy. You can’t get pregnant, that’s not how that works.”

 

“Trans men exist!” Jon stage-whispered from across the room. He was sitting on the desk, hunched over his laptop and surrounded by empty cups of iced lattes. 

 

“Shut up, Walker,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. Pregnant. Yeah, right. Ryan wasn’t stupid. He knew how to use a fucking condom, and everyone he had sex on knew Ryan’s rules. Safe sex or nothing at all. He was a slut, but he was a smart slut. There was no way he was pregnant. The thought alone was enough to make him want to run in front of a bus on the highway. Goodbye fetus, goodbye ultimate source of dysphoria. 

 

“I’m just doing my job to keep the Pride Center educated and inclusive,” Jon said in his customer service voice. Ryan wished he was still working at Starbucks. At least then he could get free drinks. 

 

Jon dropped the overly friendly look. “But seriously, if you’re still getting sick, you should go see someone about that. I’m not a med student, but that’s not normal.”

 

“Fine, I’ll go sell an organ to pay medical bills, whatever,” Ryan said, waving them both off. He didn’t want to talk about it. He knew there was something wrong with him, because he wasn’t an idiot, but he was poor and all of his money was going towards tuition and not thinking about all the debt he’d have once he graduated. He didn’t have money to see a doctor, even a school doctor, because they always sent people to the university hospital, and that wasn’t covered by tuition, or the meal plan. 

 

Ryan went by the Walgreens on the edge of campus after his classes anyway. He was there to get more soda for his and Spencer’s dorm, but he kept wandering up and down the feminine hygiene aisle. Condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests were all smushed in at the back of it, and Ryan couldn’t get Linda’s words out of his head. 

 

Sure, it wasn’t likely that he was pregnant, but what if he was? What if something had gone wrong, and a condom had broke and Ryan was fucking pregnant? He couldn’t remember the last time he was on his period, but he had a shitty memory because of the depression so that wasn’t a determining factor. 

 

Ryan grabbed one and turned it over in his hand. His other arm was starting to get sore from holding the twelve pack of Sprite. Ryan ignored it. The pregnancy test was twelve dollars and Ryan wasn’t sure if it was worth it. One one hand, if it came back negative, he’d be able to sleep at night. He’d also have wasted twelve dollars worth of ramen, though, which was a bad financial decision. 

 

But if it came back positive. Ryan didn’t want to think about it. He held the test tighter and speed-walked to the front of the store. He didn’t look at the cashier as he checked out, and he walked back to the dorm as fast as he could. 

 

Spencer wasn’t there, thankfully. Ryan didn’t want him to ask what was in the bag. Ryan took the test out and shoved it into the back of his dresser. He’d take it whenever Spencer spent the night with one of his partners. He didn’t know how long it would take, and he didn’t want Spencer there, regardless of the result. 

 

Ryan sat down on the floor of his dorm and breathed for a moment. He wasn’t pregnant. He wasn’t pregnant. 

 

He called Dan. 

 

“Hey, Ry, what’s up?” Dan asked, answering on the first ring because Dan didn’t give a fuck about interrupting other people to take a phone call. It was nice when Ryan was horny and wanted to fuck. It was not so nice when Ryan hadn’t rehearsed what he wanted to say. 

 

“Did the condom break?” Ryan blurted out. 

 

“What?” Dan asked. Ryan probably should have given him some context. 

 

“When we had sex,” Ryan said. “In February, when we were supposed to be watching that dumb French film and you had, like, caramel popcorn or something. It was gross, I didn’t tell you then, sorry, but that night. Did the condom break?”

 

“I don’t think so, why?” Dan asked. “You’re not, you know… positive or anything?”

 

“No, Dan, I didn’t accidentally give you an STD,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. 

 

“It didn’t break, Ry. I’m careful, you’re careful,” Dan said. “Whatever you’ve got anxiety over, it’s okay. You’re fine, alright man?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m probably just freaking out over nothing,” Ryan said. He rubbed his face with his other hand and laid down on his back. The carpet was soft and cool against his skin. “Sorry for interrupting whatever you were getting up to.”

 

“It’s cool. I was just in line at Panda. You want me to get you anything, or are you still doing that vegetarian thing?”

 

“No, I’m good,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. Getting nauseated from meat sucked. Ryan just wanted some Goddamn orange chicken. It was too much to ask, though, and so he had to decline Dan’s offer. He also declined the offer to come over and have stress relief sex, because he wanted to lie on the carpet for a bit longer. He and Dan ended the call, and ryan let his phone sit on his stomach while he stared up at the lights. 

 

His phone buzzed. Ryan groaned and picked it up to see who’d dared to text him while he was dissociating on the floor. It was Dallon.

 

_ this is gonna make me sound like ive got issues but im kindsa a lot of tipsy and i wanna write poetry pls let me in the desk k person is looking eird at me _

 

Ryan looked up at the light again. Making bad decisions? Well, that was right up Ryan’s ally anyway. He smiled and sent Dallon back a  _ yeah of course u dumb hemmingway fuck give me 5 minutes _

 

_ ur amazing ryan ros im friend gay for you _

 

Ryan chose to ignore that, and instead grabbed his ID card and his roomkey. Some things were easier to deal with than others. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for pregnancy, dissociation, and dysphoria. I know it's kind of a spoiler, but these things can be triggering (pregnancy is actually a big trigger of mine), so I'm putting it out there in case anyone is uncomfortable with that stuff. 
> 
> I'm also gonna update the tags in a moment (AKA after I publish this, ya know)

Dallon didn’t smell like a bar, thankfully. Apparently, it was ladies night at the bar Dallon and his roommates went to a lot, and they’d all gone together before Dallon changed his mind and decided that he wanted to meander through campus and think about nature and art. Drunk Dallon was strangely similar to stoned Jon. 

 

Jon, while stoned, had once climbed up a giant maple tree in the quad, taken some stunning photos with his fancy ass camera, and then left his shoes in the tree before climbing down and declaring that shoes were for boring people. 

 

Ryan fucking loved Jon, in a completely platonic way. He also loved Dallon, in a less than platonic way. And Dallon was currently standing next to him in he elevator, humming a song Ryan didn’t recognise. Dallon didn’t seem too drunk, he was mostly tipsy with a side of college-induced exhaustion, and he quickly became acquainted with Spencer and Ryan’s rug. Ryan shook his head, smiling, and joined Dallon on the floor. The floor was better than standing, obviously. 

 

“So, what kind of writing were you thinking about?” Ryan asked, propping himself up on his elbow. 

 

“All kinds,” Dallon said. He was laying on his stomach, and from this angle, he had a really nice ass. His face also looked adorable, smushed against the soft carpet. He probably looked great when he first woke up in the morning. “I want to write about the guy I like, but I don’t want anyone to know I’m gay.”

 

“Shit, man, I can’t help you with that,” Ryan said. “Everyone knows I’m gay.”

 

“You have a really nice face,” Dallon said. “Your hair is kind of dumb, but it’s still nice. And you’re skinny. You’re like, the ultimate man. Ultimate boy person.”

 

“You also have a nice face,” Ryan said, and hoped Dallon didn’t see his face go bright red. There was no reason to be so nervous. Ryan had already kissed this dude, full on, in the middle of a concert, and got rejected. Either Dallon knew Ryan liked him and was just trying to let him down easy, or he was completely oblivious and none of this would register with him. “Your eyes are like… winter skies, or something. I don’t know. I don’t know how to be poetic when I’m talking.”

 

“I think you’re doing amazing,” Dallon said, smiling up at Ryan warmly. Ryan’s stomach lurched a little, like he was dropping from the highest hill on a rollercoaster and his seatbelt was a little too loose. 

 

He swallowed, and his eyes flickered over to where he’d hidden the pregnancy test. “I uh, I need to tell you something. And I don’t know if I can tell it to you when you’re sober, because I’m terrified that you’ll actually remember this and then you’ll look at me differently, and I don’t want to lose you because you’re actually really cool and funny and--”

 

“Ryan,” Dallon said. His voice was dangerously soft. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“I’m transgender,” Ryan whispered back. He waited for Dallon to take back his words, to get up and leave or yell at Ryan and say that he was sick. That there was something wrong about Ryan and that he wasn’t a real man and that he was a Goddamn liar and disgusting. Ryan took a deep, unsteady breath. “Basically, I was born a girl, but I’m a guy. Spencer knows. Jon and Brendon know. I’m… you mean a lot to me, so I wanted you to know.”

 

“Thanks,” Dallon said. There was a crooked little smile on his face, like he was proud of Ryan or something. He sat up and put his arms out towards Ryan. 

 

Ryan shook his head. “No, I’m… I have to do something first. And then maybe you’ll need to hug me.”

 

Dallon frowned. Ryan got up and pulled the test out from behind his mattress and showed it to Dallon. Dallon frowned harder, and stood up, slowly, not looking away from Ryan. “Ry… I don’t know if right now is the best time to do that. I’m… a little drunk, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you if you need anythi--”

 

“I don’t need you to shove a coat hanger up my vagina if it comes out positive, okay? Planned Parenthood is a thing and I know where they are,” Ryan snapped. “I have to do this now because if I don’t I’ll probably forget about it and I can’t do it with anyone else because no one else would be right but you.”

 

Spencer would be too coddling, to gentle. He’d mean well, but it would just make Ryan feel worse. Jon would be too casual about it, because Jon dealt with things through humour, and Ryan couldn’t see anything funny about being a pregnant man. And Brendon… Brendon wasn’t really an option. He was an okay guy, but something like this would probably freak him out. 

 

Dallon nodded. “Okay. Do I… do I just wait out here?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said. He looked down at the box. He hadn’t read the instructions yet. “It, uh, is supposed to only take fifteen minutes. So if you wanna watch YouTube or whatever, go for it.”

 

Dallon nodded. Ryan was holding the package so tightly that the thin cardboard started to crumble under his hands, so he headed to the bathroom. Part of the reason that he and Spencer had chosen to live in a suite style dorm hall was because Ryan was trans. If they were only sharing a bathroom with two other guys, then the chance of someone walking in on Ryan when he was showering or changing decreased by a lot. Ryan locked himself in the bathroom stall that was closed off from the shower and sink and ripped open the packaging. His hands were shaking the whole time, and he kept thinking about Dallon. Dallon, on the other side of the wall, getting dragged down into Ryan’s shit all because Ryan was a dumbass with a crush and couldn’t trust his own friends. 

 

Ryan was an idiot. Regardless of how the test went, he knew he had to tell Dallon he was fine. He didn’t want to make Dallon’s life hell, or for anyone to think that Dallon was the one who’d gotten Ryan pregnant. If he was pregnant. He sure as fuck hoped he wasn’t. 

 

There was a knock on the outside door. Ryan lifted his head up. “Occupied!”

 

“I know,” Dallon’s voice echoed back. “You’ve been in there for almost an hour. Are you okay?”

 

“Wait, seriously?” Ryan said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sure enough, he had been in the bathroom for about an hour, just sitting on the tile floor and dissociating. Well. That wasn’t a good sign. He hadn’t even looked at the test yet. 

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said. “I almost called Spencer, but I didn’t think you’d want me to get him involved. I’m worried. Is it weird that I’m worried?”

 

“Well, considering you came over to lay on my carpet and recite drunk poetry at me, yeah, probably,” Ryan said. He stood up, finally, still holding the test in his hands, and flushed the toilet for good measure. He hoped that his and Spencer’s suite mates were out doing cool people stuff and not hearing Ryan’s half of the conversation through the wall. Ryan didn’t know those guys too well. They seemed okay, but cishet dudes were often assholes, and Ryan didn’t want to find out the hard way.

 

He was holding the test so that it was facing away from him, because he didn’t want to know the answer. It was weird; before Ryan had taken it, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he just didn’t know. Now that he had an answer in front of him, literally in front of him, he was afraid to see what it was. 

 

Dallon was on the other side of the door. His eyes dropped down to the test in Ryan’s hand, and then back to Ryan’s face. “Was it…?”

 

“I haven’t looked.”

 

“You should do that,” Dallon said. He closed the door to the bathroom so that he and Ryan were closed off in the dorm room. “It’s like a bandaid. You’ve just got to rip it off.”

 

“I think this is a lot more life-changing than a bandaid, Dallon,” Ryan said. 

 

“You know what I mean,” Dallon said. “I’m bad at metaphors.”

 

Ryan didn’t agree. Dallon was pretty good at metaphors, and making things sound good. Ryan was just too stressed to appreciate his attempts right now. He felt like he was holding a bomb in his hands, and if he turned it over to see how long he had until it went off, it might explode in his face. Ryan let out a shuddery breath. “I changed my mind, I’m not doing this. I can do it later, it’s whatever--”

 

Dallon reached out and put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. He looked down into Ryan’s eyes, his own eyes a soft, watery blue. Ryan had almost forgotten how beautiful he was. Dallon blinked, his eyelashes catching in the shitty dorm room lighting. “Sometimes waiting for an answer hurts more than knowing it. And the longer you wait, and think about it, the worse it gets in the end, when you find out what’s going on.”

 

Ryan laughed, awkwardly. “Well,  _ that’s  _ a metaphor.”

 

“Ryan. Flip over the test,” Dallon said, his voice dry and serious now. Ryan nodded slowly and looked down at his hand. He felt like he was watching himself through a television screen, and that this was all happening to some alternate universe Ryan. There, through the shroud of anxiety and static, were two tin blue lines, bold and bright. Ryan decided he hated the colour blue, because blue was the answer he was afraid of. 

 

“I’m gonna fucking kill myself,” Ryan muttered without thinking. 

 

“Or we could call Planned Parenthood in the morning and set shit on fire instead,” Dallon said. 

 

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “What?”

 

“Well, I mean, I sure as fuck don’t know how to be pregnant, or get an abortion, if that’s what you want, but I know Planned Parenthood does and they open at nine tomorrow,” Dallon said. “And the fire thing is because sometimes burning shit is therapeutic. Anything you wanna go burn?”

 

Ryan held up the pregnancy test. “This and the box.”

 

“Sweet,” Dallon said. He pulled out his phone. “I’ll make a note to call tomorrow, in case I don’t remember in the morning. Where can we go set things on fire?”

 

“The roof, probably,” Ryan said. He went over to Spencer’s side of the room and dug around in Spencer’s storage for a minute or too. He knew Brendon kept a lighter over here, because he was a bit scatter-brained and would forget his own sometimes. There wasn’t any fluid, but Ryan wasn’t too worried about that. The box and instructions were flammable enough. 

 

He and Dallon gathered everything up and headed up the three flights of stairs up to the roof. The door to the roof was unlocked, miraculously, and so they got out without any issue. No one was on the roof, just Dallon and Ryan, and the two boys set up the fire pile by the edge. 

 

“Do you want to do the honours?” Dallon asked Ryan. He was leaned against the knee wall, looking down at the street below. 

 

Ryan flicked the lighter on. “Yeah. Fuck biology.”

 

“Fuck biology,” Dallon echoed, with the same amount of bitterness that Ryan had. Ryan touched the lighter flame to the box, and watched it light up and curl in on itself. He moved over to sit down beside Dallon, and tucked his head in under Dallon’s arm. Dallon wrapped his arm around Ryan, pulling him in close, and rested his chin on top of Ryan’s head. “I’ve got your back, okay? Whatever you want to do with this, I’m with you.”

 

Ryan closed his eyes and smiled, ignoring the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, man. That’s… that means a lot to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I did not forget about this fic, I've just been working on a thousand other things in the past few months. 
> 
> Uh, in case anyone's forgotten: warning for mentions of abortion, dysphoria, all that fun stuff.

Ryan told Spencer, after he and Dallon had set up an appointment with Planned Parenthood. Spencer was surprisingly calm about it, only asking if he needed to kick anyone’s ass for Ryan. Ryan declined the offer, because he wasn’t sure who’d gotten him in this situation, but he knew he didn’t want to involve them. Ryan didn’t want to make a big deal out of any of this, because he hated that he was in this situation to begin with. Guys weren’t supposed to get pregnant. Being a pregnant guy was dysphoric enough without a bunch of people knowing and asking him questions about it. 

 

“Are you going to go there alone, or is Dallon going with you?” Spencer asked. The two of them were at the campus Starbucks, sitting in a booth in the back of the room. 

 

Ryan shrugged. “Don’t know. I was kind of assuming you’d want to go with me.”

 

“Do you want me there?” Spencer asked. “Because, I mean, if you do I’ll be there, but I don’t have to be there, you know. Like, if me being there would be weird for you or anything.”

 

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “This whole thing is fucking weird.”

 

“I can only imagine,” Spencer said. He poked Ryan’s ankle with his foot under the table. “Doesn’t make you any less of a guy, though. Remember that one trans guy who got pregnant and made the news everywhere? That’s not you, but I mean, you’re not alone in the pregnant guy category.”

 

“Yeah, but he wanted a kid. I don’t,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Thus, you’re getting an abortion,” Spencer said. He drank from his coffee, looking around at the few people who were walking by. It was a Thursday, and Ryan was genuinely surprised by the lack of people inside. “I know you’ve heard this before, but shit like this shouldn’t be an issue. Sometimes guys get pregnant, sometimes girls have dicks… who gives a shit, honestly? It’s not like it’s their business who you are or what you do with your own body.”

 

“Maybe I’ll just never have sex again,” Ryan said. Spencer gave him a look, raising his eyebrows. Ryan sighed and slumped down in his chair, propping his feet up on Spencer’s side of the table. “Okay, shut up. I could totally not have sex if I wanted to. There are people who do the whole chastity thing and they’re perfectly fine. Sex isn’t that important anyway.”

 

Spencer raised his eyebrows even higher. 

 

Ryan flipped him off. “Fuck you. Buy me more condoms for my birthday, then, if you’re so sure you know my sexual history.”

 

“Ryan, I’ve known you since you were five,” Spencer said. “And you told me the first time you ever had sex, in excruciating detail, too. Trust me, just like with health class, abstinence is not going to work for you.”

 

“Maybe I can turn in to a straight dude and only fuck girls,” Ryan offered, but then he remembered Dallon and realised that that would never happen. Guys were too attractive, and Ryan genuinely liked dick. He frowned. “Do you think Dallon thinks I’m a slut?”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Spencer said, and dropped his head to the table. He looked up at Ryan through his bangs. “Ever heard of staying on topic? But no, Dallon does not think you’re a slut for having sex with multiple people. Dallon thinks you’re a badass, actually. He told me so, too. He’s basically your number one fanboy at this point.”

 

“Tell him to write fanfiction about me in class, then, if you’re so sure about that,” Ryan said. Spencer snorted, but didn’t explain himself. Ryan was worried for a moment that Dallon was actually writing dumb shit about Ryan behind his back, or maybe he and Spencer had some embarrassing webcomic going on where they made fictional Ryan do a bunch of stupid shit for the views. 

 

“Stop looking so distressed,” Spencer said. “Dallon doesn’t write fanfiction about you. You’d have to be actually famous for that to happen.”

 

“Fuck you too, then,” Ryan said. “I bet Brendon’s written fanfiction about you. Like, the really shitty Wattpad stuff, where it’s like  _ Spencer took Y/N into his bedroom, gently splaying you out onto the bed before dropping down and taking your entire leng-- _ ”

 

Spencer leaned across the table and pressed his hand to Ryan’s mouth. His face was bright red, and Ryan started laughing from behind his friend’s hand. Spencer glared at him. “Brendon would never.”

 

Ryan took Spencer’s hand off of his mouth. “Are you sure? Have you ever checked his notebooks to make sure he’s not writing sultry imagines about you taking him during the middle of class, making him stay quiet so you two don’t get caught?”

 

“If you weren’t going through a traumatising event, I would pour my hot coffee all over your stupid hair,” Spencer said. 

 

“What, like Brendon wants you to do with your hot cu--”

 

“Ryan!” Spencer said, kicking him in the shin. Hard. Ryan laughed, subtly reaching down to rub at the spot where Spencer’d hit him, and promised he would stop. It was only fair, though, that Ryan got to do this. He’d put up with Spencer and Brendon barely keeping it PG for months before Linda came into the picture and took control of the situation. Ryan, if he ever had a serious relationship, would never be so careless as to make out with his significant other in front of his best friend. There were certain lines that didn’t need to be crossed. Ever. 

 

Linda ended up joining them about twenty minutes later, carrying a stack of neon poster boards and three black Sharpies. Her sunglasses were still down over her eyes, and her mouth was set into a stern frown. Spencer scooted over and tossed his empty cup into the nearby trashcan. “Who’s being a pain in the ass now?”

 

“Abortress people,” Linda said, and set her posters down. She put her sunglasses up on her forehead before handing both of the boys markers. “We’re allowed to protest, but we have to be a certain distance away, and we don’t have enough posters. So. You two are helping me.”

 

“What are we writing?” Spencer asked, uncapping his Sharpie. 

 

Ryan frowned. “Fair warning, my handwriting sucks.”

 

“Well, now’s a good time to fix that,” Linda said. She opened her phone to her photo album, where she’d saved a bunch of poster ideas from other campuses across the country who’d had to deal with the issue in the past. Ryan cringed when he saw the images in the background. He’d taken biology before, and he knew that fetuses didn’t look all that fucked up when they were ony a few weeks old. 

 

Ryan looked up at Linda and Spencer. “These guys do realise they’re spreading lies, right? Have they ever looked at a biology book?”

 

“Clearly not,” Linda said, rolling her eyes. “And what sucks is that we can’t even hide the images from people, because some other university had kids who did that, and they got in trouble for disrupting this group’s  _ free speech _ . So we’re just protesting on the other side of the sidewalk now and raising money for Planned Parenthood.”

 

“Sounds like a plan, then,” Ryan said, and popped open the cap on his Sharpie. He didn’t like pro-life people, and him being pregnant only added to that distaste. Ryan made sure that all of his posters could be held by men or women, because he didn’t want to bring up transgender issues with this protest. This was about uteruses, not the people who owned them. Ryan wasn’t going to drag his own issues into the mess, and he wasn’t going to out himself as trans just to make a political statement. 

 

“That should be enough,” Linda said, when they’d all made about five posters each. The three of them gathered up their posters and followed Linda out of the Starbucks and onto the main walkway. Sure enough, there were a bunch of graphic photos on a billboard, and college students across the street protesting them. 

 

Ryan gritted his teeth. Part of him wanted to yell out that he was getting an abortion in a week, so fuck those guys, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to out himself as trans, or make the few people who saw him as a genuine guy think differently about him. It wasn’t worth it. He could just stand back with Spencer and Linda and hold a sign. 

 

Brendon showed up later, and grabbed one of the posters. He held it above his head and started shouting about how Planned Parenthood was awesome because they had free condoms, and who didn’t want free condoms. Ryan found it hilarious that Brendon had gone from an awkward, twitchy Mormon guy at the beginning of the year to the outlandish, screaming man beside him now. 

 

“You don’t have to tell the whole campus, dude,” Ryan muttered. 

 

“Yeah I do,” Brendon said. “These lies will not stand.”

 

“Well, at least get a megaphone so that you don’t blow your voice out,” Ryan said. Brendon broke out into a grin and handed Spencer his poster before bolting off, presumably to get a megaphone. Ryan wasn’t sure where he was planning to get one from, because he didn’t think that Walmart sold any, and that was the only real store within walking distance.

 

Jon showed up with a bucket of condoms and some bubbles not long after Brendon had disappeared, and he grabbed the sign Brendon had abandoned. He was wearing flip flops, as usual, and rested the poster against his feet while he blew bubbles at the people passing by. He and Ryan took turns offering condoms while Spencer and Linda spouted out real facts about abortion and Planned Parenthood. 

 

Ryan was not expecting Brendon to come back with a megaphone, but he did, and he climbed on Jon’s back while using it. Jon looked unimpressed, and merely leaned his head away from Brendon and the megaphone so that he didn’t go entirely deaf. Brendon was loud even without assistance. Now, with the megaphone to help him out, Ryan felt like he was at the front row of a concert. He should have brought earplugs. 

 

Eventually, though, Ryan had to go to his creative writing class. He handed his poster off to a girl he didn’t know and grabbed his backpack, letting Spencer and Linda know he’d be back whenever class was over. Ryan didn’t know if they’d all still be out there, since his class was in the afternoon and a lot of people went home in the afternoon. Campus tended to die down for a few hours, and then everyone came out of their dorms to get dinner or go party. 

 

Ryan didn’t mind the quiet hours, because he liked being alone sometimes. The campus was pretty, and there were a lot of back allies and unused pathways that Ryan wanted to explore. He felt self-conscious about exploring them while there were people about, though, so he never did it. Now, though, on a Thursday afternoon in the middle of March, there were very few people about and Ryan was able to meander on his way down to class. 

 

He almost got lost amongst the older buildings at the bottom of the hill, but once he pulled out his phone to check Google Maps and reorient himself, he was fine. He mentally made note of where he’d been, because it would be nice to come back and work on some of his writing down here. It was incredibly quiet, and there were a bunch of shady places under trees for Ryan to set up camp. 

 

Ryan ended up being a few minutes late for class, but the professor liked him, and so he didn’t get in trouble with her for coming in while she was explaining the reading they’d done the night before. Ryan hadn’t read it, but he was good at reading while other people were talking, so he quickly skimmed over the short story to make sure that there wasn’t anything important in there he needed to know about. It was just a story about a punk from New Mexico with a shitty girlfriend, so Ryan didn’t care about the morals or whatever. Straight people were boring. 

 

Dallon passed him a small slip of paper.  _ Where were you? I was worried _

 

_ Don’t be; I was with Spencer, Brendon, and Linda. Protesting, of all things. LMAO _

 

Dallon snickered at the response. He uncapped his pen again and scribbled something back.  _ Doesn’t surprise me. Linda’s always getting involved in something. I’m not brave enough to get out there the way she does, but I wish I could be. _

 

Ryan bit his tongue, trying not to respond with something cheesy. He hated the concept of bravery, especially when it was paired with activism or being open about sexuality. No one should be awarded for doing something that’s normal. Giving a shit about less fortunate people, and not staying silent about it, was a basic sign of empathy. And being openly gay wasn’t some form of bravery. It was something that should be normal, but wasn’t, and Ryan thought it was all bullshit. 

 

He didn’t write that. He wrote  _ you’re brave. Besides, it’s not hard to protest lying pro-life shitbags, anyway.  _

 

Dallon read over Ryan’s response and smiled down at the paper. When the professor wasn’t looking at them, he scooted his chair over to Ryan’s, so that there was barely any space between the two of them. Ryan didn’t say anything about it, but he did lean in towards Dallon over the course of the class. There wasn’t bravery in doing the expected, but maybe there was bravery in doing the personally unexpected. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back with a new chapter, and this one is a short one but a good one. Dallon and Ryan are about to start talking about their feelings (not in this chapter, but soon. Very soon).

“I don't want to do this,” Ryan said. He and Dallon were sitting in Dallon’s car, outside of the Planned Parenthood building. There were a handful of protesters standing between the two men and the doors, and that’s what was freaking Ryan out. He rubbed his hands over his face. “I mean… I want to do this, and be done with being pregnant, but I don’t. I don’t want to go in there. I wish I could just will myself to not have a uterus.”

 

“I mean, you’ll be without one eventually,” Dallon said. He reached out, slowly, and wrapped his hand around Ryan’s. “But you’re not going in alone. I’m with you.”

 

Ryan squeezed Dallon’s hand. He and Spencer had decided that it would be easier on them both if Spencer wasn’t there, because Spencer was like a mom when it came to the hard shit, and the more Spencer mom-ed, the more Ryan would turn into a petulant teenager. And that wouldn’t be good for anyone. 

 

Spencer had, however, promised to have root beer and caramel popcorn waiting for Ryan when he and Dallon got back. Ryan fucking loved caramel popcorn, but Spencer thought it was too sweet and gross so they never had it in their dorm. This time, though, was special, and so Ryan was getting his damn caramel popcorn. 

 

“This isn’t going to make things weird between us, right?” Ryan said. 

 

“What do you mean?” Dallon asked. He was still holding Ryan’s hand. 

 

“Me. Getting an abortion. Being trans. All that.”

 

“It hasn’t changed anything yet, has it?” Dallon said. 

 

“Well, no,” Ryan said, biting at the skin on his lower lip. “But you’ve still had plausible deniability up to this point. Like, maybe I’ve been lying about the pregnant thing, or maybe this is a weird prank, but once we go in there… I mean. Guys don’t get abortions.”

 

“Yeah they do,” Dallon said. He turned and looked Ryan right in the eyes. It wasn’t intimidating. It was more like coming home, only to find that someone had done the laundry while Ryan was gone and now his bedsheets were clean and warm and he could curl up in them and forget about the world. It was like walking into a Barnes and Noble and seeing all of the beautiful notebooks lined up on the back wall, promising Ryan some kind of inspiration. Dallon rubbed his thumb over the back of Ryan’s hand. “Ryan, none of this is going to change how I see you, or how I feel about you, okay? You’re a guy to me, you always have been, and you always will. Unless you realise otherwise, or something.”

 

Ryan snorted. 

 

Dallon made a face. “I’m trying to be supportive.”

 

“You’re succeeding,” Ryan said. He wondered if he could kiss Dallon now, or if Dallon would let him. He didn’t. He swallowed. “We should go in.”

 

Dallon dropped his gaze to their hands. “Do you want me to…?”

 

“Don’t let go,” Ryan said, his voice shaking despite himself. Dallon nodded, and squeezed Ryan’s hand. He had to let go so that they could both get out of the car, but once they were out, Dallon grabbed onto Ryan’s hand again, intertwining their fingers and keeping him close. Dallon was a shield, all six and a half feet of him staring down the protesters and making them think twice about speaking to either of them. 

 

Ryan wondered how many of them thought that he was Dallon’s girlfriend, and that Dallon was dragging Ryan here to cover up his mistake. He shook that thought from his head as soon as Dallon squeezed his hand and opened the door, though, because what those protesters thought didn’t fucking matter. Ryan wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend, because he wasn’t a girl, and Dallon wasn’t the type of guy to force someone to do something they didn’t want to. 

 

“Do you want me to wait out here?” Dallon asked while they were sitting in the waiting room. He was still holding Ryan’s hand, and Ryan wished that there was a way for Dallon to just come back with him for the procedure without actually having to see it. 

 

Ryan dropped his head onto Dallon’s shoulder. It was only the beginning of the day, but he was mentally exhausted, and worried that he was about to start crying. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

 

Dallon giggled. “That’s ironic. Pro-choice, but only for some things.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, you know what I meant,” Ryan said, playfully flicking the back of Dallon’s hand with his free hand. 

 

“Yeah, I did,” Dallon said, softly. Ryan could feel Dallon’s gaze on the top of his head, and he turned so that he could look up at Dallon. Dallon was watching Ryan with some weird expression in his eyes, and Ryan was afraid to find out what it was. Dallon ran his tongue across his lower lip and then swallowed. “Ryan, I--”

 

“Ryan Ross?” the nurse said from the doorway. Ryan jolted upward and let go of Dallon’s hand. He looked back down at Dallon for a moment, and then at the nurse, who was waiting expectantly at the door. 

 

Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll be right back. You can tell me then, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said, deflating a little. “I’ll still be here.”

 

Ryan turned and followed the nurse back to a room, and tried to think of anything but what was happening to him. He hated that he was in this situation, and vowed to get on birth control or get an unlimited supply of unbreakable condoms or  _ something _ so that he would never have to risk being in this situation again. It was uncomfortable, and he wanted to rip his skin off, but he put on a fake nervous little smile for the doctor and just prayed that it would be done with quickly. 

 

He felt a little weird when it was done and he was let go, and basically plastered himself to Dallon’s side on the way back to the car. Dallon had his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, but wasn’t saying much. Ryan fell asleep on the way back to his own dorm room, even though it was only a twenty minute drive, and Dallon and Spencer had to collectively wake him up so that he could go upstairs. 

 

“You’re really out of it, by the way,” Spencer said. Ryan was curled up in the giant, mega soft chair that Spencer and Jon had brought home from a yard sale. Spencer had called dibs, and Jon had let him keep the chair in return for free pizza whenever he needed it. Ryan was so glad that Spencer’s parents were somewhat rich and didn’t mind their son spending a lot of money on pizza. He fucking loved this chair. 

 

Spencer waved his hand in front of Ryan’s face. “Dude. Seriously. Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Tired.”

 

“That’s normal,” Dallon said. Ryan hadn’t realised he was still there. He thought Dallon would have gone back to his apartment and his own friends by now, instead of hanging around with a freshman and his weird, trans friend. 

 

Ryan turned over onto his side, pulling his knees up closer to his chest. “Why are you still here?”

 

“I don’t have anywhere better to be, and Spencer’s good company,” Dallon said. He was really fucking pretty. Ryan was actually in love with him, which was terrifying because there was no way Dallon would even consider dating Ryan after all he’d seen Ryan go through. Ryan was just a fucked up weirdo. Dallon deserved better. 

 

Dallon stretched his legs out. “And you’re not too bad yourself, even when you’re all drowsy and out of it.”

 

“I should probably take a nap,” Ryan said, more to himself than the two guys in his room. 

 

“You took one in the car,” Spencer said. “Dallon and I had to practically drag you out of it, by the way. You owe me for that.”

 

Ryan frowned. “How?”

 

“I don’t know,” Spencer said. “We’ll figure that out later, I guess. You’re too out of it to agree to anything. I think there’s a legal rule somewhere that says you can’t make someone agree to the terms and conditions while they’re, like, inebriated. I know you’re not inebriated but you’re definitely something--”

 

“Spencer,” Ryan said, reaching out and placing his hand over Spencer’s mouth. “Shh. I would like to sleep.”

 

Spencer stared at Ryan with an unimpressed expression for a long moment before reaching up and pulling Ryan’s hand away. He let Ryan’s hand drop down to his side and then brushed a piece of hair away from Ryan’s eyes. “At least get in your bed first, damn Ryan. You have one, you might as well use it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you liked it!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan Ross: dumbass bisexual. 
> 
> Also, things are about to happen. In the next chapter, specifically, because Ryan is Fucking Tired of Dallon's evasive bullshit.

Ryan skipped school that Monday. He wasn’t feeling up to doing much of anything, let alone sitting in class and potentially getting misgendered. Spencer brought him lunch along with Linda and Brendon, and the four of them ended up playing Cards Against Humanity all afternoon instead of going to class. Ryan loved it. He loved that no one was asking him how he felt, or what it was like to get an abortion. It was just him, his best friend, and the two people who were dating his best friend. Nothing weird, and nothing that made Ryan uncomfortable. 

 

Eventually, Linda and Brendon headed out and it was just Spencer and Ryan. Spencer pulled up his Netflix account and grabbed a few blankets before letting Ryan pick what they were watching that night. 

 

Ryan leaned against Spencer. “Don't you have homework?”

 

“Don't you?” Spencer asked. 

 

Ryan sighed. “Fair point. Let's watch something.”

 

Spencer tossed a blanket at Ryan and the two of them leaned against each other while they watched Parks and Rec again. Ryan had lost track of how many times he’d seen the show. At this point, all of the episodes blurred together. It was good, though, because he didn’t have to pay much attention to the plot, and he could drift in and out of sleep. 

 

A few episodes later, Spencer got up and got them each a soda from the mini fridge. Ryan cracked his own open and drank it, letting the carbonation settle on his tongue. 

 

He ended up falling asleep on Spencer’s shoulder an hour later. Spencer woke him up and told him he was too heavy to do that, and then made Ryan go up into his own bed. Ryan rolled his eyes, keeping the blanket around his shoulders. “You’re a tyrant.”

 

“I’m the opposite of a tyrant,” Spencer said. “I exist to make your life better.”

 

“Pretty sure making me move does not make my life better,” Ryan said. “But whatever helps you feel better about being a tyrant, I guess.”

 

Spencer flicked Ryan’s shoulder, and Ryan climbed up the ladder to get out of Spencer’s reach. He was actually tired, but he didn’t want to go to sleep because he didn’t want to dream about anything. Or anyone. Ryan hadn’t had sex since he’d found out about the whole pregnancy thing, and now that it was over, he didn’t know if he wanted to have sex again. He had actual, genuine feelings for Dallon now, and he couldn’t see himself sleeping with any of his other friends.

 

It would feel like cheating, which was bullshit considering he and Dallon weren’t dating. Ryan turned over onto his side so that he was looking at the wall of the dorm room and stared at it. He didn’t want think about Dallon. If he thought about Dallon then he’d probably dream about the guy, and considering his current situation, he wouldn’t be surprised if things got steamy in his head. Ryan didn’t want that. 

 

He wanted things to get steamy with Dallon in real life. Maybe. He wanted Dallon, but he didn’t want to fuck up their friendship and he didn’t want to know how Dallon really saw him, especially after taking Ryan to get a fucking abortion. 

 

Ryan closed his eyes when Spencer shut the lights off, but he didn’t fall asleep of a few more hours. Everything in his body felt off. He felt like he was slowly being smashed down into a piece of Ryan-shaped cardboard, but also like he wasn’t touching his sheets and was instead hovering above them. His skin was itchy but cold, and he was tired but unable to keep his eyes closed for more than a minute. 

 

When Ryan woke up the next day, Spencer was gone and there was an unopened box of Fruit Loops sitting on his desk. Ryan climbed down and grabbed the box, turning it over in his hands. It was one of those single person boxes, and there was a note taped to the back.  _ Went to class but I got you breakfast. If you’re up by 1 do you wanna get lunch with Brendon Jon and me? -S _

 

Ryan texted Spencer to say he’d be at the pride center for lunch and ripped open the cereal box. He ate it dry, because the thought of milk made Ryan want to gag. His mouth already tasted gross, and milk would only make it worse. 

 

He showered and brushed his teeth and actually bothered to put on new clothes before grabbing his shit and heading out of the dorm. It was about twelve-thirty, which meant he’d missed his morning bio lecture, but he could still get to his writing class after he grabbed real food with Spencer and the guys. 

 

Ryan bit his lip. Fuck. Writing class had Dallon. He wanted to skip, but the teacher liked him and he’d definitely missed too many classes this semester. He had no choice. If he wanted to pass, he had to go. 

 

Ryan walked into the pride center to see that it was nearly full, and that Brendon and Spencer were sitting on either side of Jon at the welcome desk. Brendon had a bottle of green juice shit, and it looked nasty in Ryan’s opinion. He walked over and grabbed the bottle out of Brendon’s hand, turning it around to see the label. “Dude. You’re drinking kale? What the fuck?”

 

“It’s good for you!” Brendon argued. 

 

“It’s disgusting,” Spencer said. He pointed at his boyfriend. “This asshole decided to start drinking fancy health juice and it’s the worst decision he’s made in his life.”

 

“Spencer and I are continuing the tradition of being unhealthy carnivores by eating Starbucks and drinking bacon,” Jon said drily. Ryan rolled his eyes. Jon grinned. “Just kidding. I don’t fill my coffee with enough sugary shit to call it a meal.”

 

“You also don’t eat ass,” Ryan said. Spencer flipped him off, and Brendon choked on his kale juice. Ryan shrugged. “What? He doesn’t. He doesn’t realise how nasty his coffee is because he had nothing to compare it to.”

 

“This is still a public area, Ry. Don’t talk about ass eating,” Spencer said. 

 

“Can I talk about ass  _ drinking _ ?”

 

“No!” Brendon squeaked out, and several heads turned towards them. Ryan acted like he had no idea why Brendon was screaming. Brendon screamed a lot. It was fine. Ryan didn’t want to explain things to the rest of the room anyway. They weren’t his friends, and so their opinion on him and the other guys didn’t matter. 

 

“So,” Jon said, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his backpack, “who wants to get me a hugeass burrito bowl?”

 

“Sure,” Ryan said, and grabbed the ten. It was wrinkled, and there were pen marks on it from where it’d been sitting in the bottom of Jon’s bag. “Do you want me to get you coffee too, or?”

 

“Nah, I’ve already got coffee,” Jon said. Sure enough, there was a venti cup sitting next to his laptop. 

 

Spencer and Ryan went together to get the burritos, and Brendon headed off to a different line so that he could get something vegetarian. Ryan was pretty sure that burritos could be vegetarian if there were only bean in them, but he wasn’t that concerned. Brendon could do whatever he wanted for lunch. 

 

Spencer got pork, and Ryan got himself and Jon spicy chicken because he knew Jon liked it and he wanted to burn his own tongue off. It seemed like a fun time. Ryan also got a large Coke, and then made Spencer carry the drinks while he took care of the burritos. Brendon came back with a vegan Mediterranean wrap from the new salad stand in the student center, and Dallon. Dallon was holding a salad and a water bottle. He looked very confused. 

 

“Hey,” Spencer said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said. He looked down at his food. “Um. I was going to eat with Breezy and Sarah, actually…”

 

“They can join us,” Brendon said. “I mean, they’re gay. No one will care.”

 

“I guess I could ask…?” Dallon said, but he didn’t seem excited about the prospect. 

 

Ryan gritted his teeth. Incredible. “You don’t have to eat with us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever.”

 

He started walking away from the others, so that Dallon couldn’t see his face. Dallon wouldn’t have noticed, anyway, because he had been looking anywhere that wasn’t Ryan. Fucking asshole. Fuck that guy, seriously. He could say he was an ally, or supportive or whatever else made him feel good about himself, but it didn’t change the truth. Dallon couldn’t see Ryan as a real guy, and Ryan didn’t want shit to do with him if Dallon was going to treat him like a freak for being a dude with a functioning uterus. 

 

“Ryan!” someone called out from behind him. Ryan was still walking. If it was Spencer or Brendon, they could catch up to him at the pride center. If it was Dallon, Ryan wasn’t going to turn back around. 

 

Someone caught his shoulder and pulled him around. It was Dallon. Ryan glared at him. “What. What the hell do you want?”

 

“I--” Dallon said, and looked away again. There it was. Cognitive dissonance always won over in the end, and people couldn’t make sense of Ryan. Either he was a girl who never grew out of his tomboy phase or he was a fucked up guy. He couldn’t just be Ryan. 

 

“Spit it out,” Ryan said. His hands were starting to overheat from where he was holding the burritos. 

 

“I wrote… I wrote you some stuff, and I--I don’t know if I can say it out loud,” Dallon said. He wasn’t holding his salad or water any more. He fumbled his backpack off, nearly dropping it to the ground, and pulled out a notebook. It was small enough to fit in his hand, and it looked like it had been around for years and not just a semester. Dallon looked up from the notebook to Ryan. “I’m sorry if this makes things weird.”

 

“I think we’re past that,” Ryan said, instead of saying that he’d also written things about Dallon he couldn’t say out loud. 

 

“I know,” Dallon said, and set the notebook on top of Ryan’s stack of burritos. He leaned forward, into Ryan’s space, like he was going to do something else that would explain everything, but he didn’t. He just moved forward and then moved back, and then walked away from Ryan. 

 

Ryan let him. He didn’t want to follow, except that he did. And he wanted to get the burritos out of his fucking hands so that he could hold the notebook or throw it on the ground or kick it or maybe even read it. 

 

He did none of that, and instead returned to the pride center with the food. Spencer and Brendon were already back, and Spencer’s gaze followed Ryan around the room. He didn’t say anything, though, and only raised an eyebrow when Ryan took out the notebook and dropped it into his backpack like it was nothing. 

 

“What did Dallon want?” Brendon asked. “He pretty much threw his food at me and bolted after you, dude.”

 

“It was just about a class assignment,” Ryan said, because he couldn’t imagine Dallon doing that. 

 

Spencer stabbed a piece of stray lettuce. “Must have been one hell of an assignment.”

 

“I miss everything,” Jon said, shaking his head. He looked up at Ryan, and for a moment Ryan was worried that Jon would ask him about Dallon as well, but he only smiled and said, “thanks for the burrito, by the way. I would have died without it.”

 

“You could have turned to cannibalism,” Ryan offered.

 

Jon shook his head. “Absolutely not. No cannibalism in the pride center. I thought we’d gone over that.”

 

“We have,” Spencer said. “Ryan’s just bad at remembering shit, apparently.”

 

“Eat me, Smith,” Ryan said, and flicked a piece of corn at him. 

 

Jon sighed. “I literally just said no cannibalism. Am I going to have to print it out and put it on a fucking poster or some shit?”

 

“Yes. Please do that,” Brendon said. He was grinning from behind his kale juice, and Ryan hoped he was happy with his dumb self. Kale juice and all. “Do that for all the rules you have to make because of us. I wanna see how long it takes before someone notices and makes you take them back down.”

 

“Or fires me,” Jon said. 

 

“They won’t fire you for making sure people know the rules of the pride center,” Brendon said. “They’ll probably promote you. Hell, they might even rename this building after you, since you’ve been going above and beyond to keep it safe for those who need it the most.”

 

Spencer and Ryan were holding back laughter and purposely not looking at each other. Jon looked like he was seriously considering shoving a piece of pork down Brendon’t throat. 

 

Brendon winked at Jon and downed the last of his kale juice. “That is, of course, if you put the posters up. If you don’t you’re just a coward who doesn’t care about the safety of others.”

 

“Get the fuck out of my pride center,” Jon said, and Spencer let out a snort of laughter. Jon narrowed his eyes at Spencer. “Control your boyfriend.”

 

“I’ll make sure to spank him later,” Spencer said, deadpan, and bit into his burrito. 

 

Jon buried his face in his hands. “I hate. All of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently waiting on my Sims game to stop being a little shit and work for me (it was working literally an hour ago. What the fuck.) so here's this chapter! Things happen! It's pretty great!

Ryan almost didn’t go to class, because he was having fun with his friends at the pride center. He remembered that he still had Dallon’s notebook, though, and even though he was still a little pissed off at Dallon for acting weird, he wasn’t going to keep the notebook. It wasn’t his. Ryan knew how important writing notebooks could be, and he wasn’t going to lose Dallon’s. 

 

So he made the trek across campus after dumping his empty drink and burrito wrapper, and took his usual seat near the back of the class. Dallon wasn’t there yet. Ryan pulled out the notebook anyway, and set it on the edge of his desk. Dallon could get it whenever he decided to show up. 

 

Dallon didn’t show up, though. Class started without him, and Ryan had to move in with another pair of people to work on his stories. He didn’t want to share his writing with these people, because they didn’t know him the way Dallon did and he was pretty sure they thought he was a girl. Ryan hated that, and he hated that they were both unnecessarily straight. Their poetry sucked. Their short story drafts sucked even more.

 

Ryan was more than ready to leave when the class ended, and he almost left Dallon’s notebook behind in his rush to get out. He remembered it at the last minute, though, and snatched it off of his own desk before moving back through everyone else to get out of the door. 

 

He held the notebook between his fingers, feeling how it had been worn around the edges. Ryan wasn’t sure he believed that Dallon had only had this for a semester. It felt too used to be only a few months old. Ryan had writing notebooks that dated back to when he’d been in sixth grade, so he had a pretty good idea of how old shit felt when it was a few months old versus a few years. This felt like it was at least a year old. It didn’t feel new. 

 

Ryan pushed open the doors to get out, and looked up to see Dallon leaning against a tree. He had an open notebook in his hands, and he was writing in it. Ryan frowned and walked up to him. “Why weren’t you in class?”

 

Dallon startled and dropped his pencil. “Jesus Christ, Ry. Warn a guy next time.”

 

“Sorry,” Ryan said. He reached down and grabbed Dallon’s pencil. “But seriously, why weren’t you in class? Did something happen?”

 

“No, I--” Dallon’s eyes dropped down to the little notebook in Ryan’s hand. His cheeks turned red. “Did you… did you read it?”

 

“No, I didn’t have time,” Ryan said. He brushed his hair out of his face and offered the notebook back to Dallon. “Sorry. I don’t want to carry it around, not when you’d still need it for class or whatever. I can read it later, maybe?”

 

“I don’t… I need you to read it before you give it back to me,” Dallon said. He slapped his notebook shut with the pencil inside and moved away from Ryan. “Sorry. I just… sorry.”

 

And then Dallon was walking away from Ryan again. Ryan rolled his eyes and stormed after him, because this was fucking stupid. They were both adults, so surely Dallon could grow the hell up and just tell Ryan what was going on. Dallon’s legs were longer than Ryan’s, though, and he ran every morning, so he kept getting farther and farther away from Ryan. Ryan didn’t want to actually have to run after the guy, because that would just come off as desperate, but he didn’t want to lose Dallon in the class change either. 

 

“Dammit,” Ryan muttered under his breath, and sprinted forward. He reached out and yanked on Dallon’s arm, pulling him to a stop and turning him around. It was just like in the student center, except now their roles were reversed. Ryan didn’t let go of Dallon. “Seriously. What the hell is wrong with you? If shit’s weird between us because of what happened to me, just say it. Don’t use your fucking writing journal as a cop out. That’s cheap.”

 

“Nothing’s weird, Ryan, I promise,” Dallon said. He wrapped his arms around himself. He looked like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Ryan almost felt bad for Dallon. But then he remembered that Dallon was the one avoiding him, not the other way around, and any feelings of sympathy subsided. 

 

Ryan slowly let go of Dallon. He frowned. “Then why does it feel weird?”

 

“I… I don’t know,” Dallon said. He unwrapped one hand from himself and took Ryan’s, and Ryan let him. Ryan stared down at their hands, and Dallon stared at him. “Ryan.”

 

Ryan looked back up. “Yeah?”

 

“At that festival, before everything else happened, why did you kiss me?” Dallon asked. There was something softer about him now. Mor vulnerable. Ryan couldn’t tell how he felt about it. Dallon swallowed. “For real this time. No bullshit.”

 

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “It just happened.”

 

There was a long moment that really lasted all of two seconds where the two men just watched each other. Dallon broke it. “Would you do it again?”

 

Ryan narrowed his eyes. He was still holding Dallon’s hand and Dallon’s notebook. “...would you?”

 

“Maybe,” Dallon said. He dropped his gaze for a second and then looked Ryan in the eyes, and he looked a lot more certain about what he was doing. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously. Ryan, I… most of the stuff I’ve been writing… it’s about you,” Dallon said. He swallowed again. Ryan’s heart was pounding in his chest again, but for a good reason this time. Dallon didn’t let go. “I don’t--I know this is going to sound really stupid and sappy but I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the whole semester and I wouldn’t shut up about it to my roommates and they basically bullied me into talking to you so that I’d leave them alone--”

 

“You had a  _ what  _ on me?” Ryan blurted out, cutting through Dallon’s speech. That didn’t happen. People didn’t get crushes on Ryan. Ryan wasn’t crush-worthy. 

 

“A crush,” Dallon repeated. “Look, Ryan, I get it if you’re not really into me or whatever, but the semester’s almost over and our big project thing is due in a week and I didn’t want to turn in an entire fucking poetry book about you without you knowing. It didn’t seem fair.”

 

Ryan stared at him. “You seriously have a crush on me.”

 

“Yes. And I seriously like you, too. In a gay way,” Dallon said. He rolled his eyes. “What is is with you and that word, by the way? Do you use seriously in your writing as much as you use it in real life?”

 

“I’m just trying to wrap my mind around the concept of someone actually having a crush on me,” Ryan said. “That doesn’t happen often. Or ever, actually.”

 

“Well, it’s happening now,” Dallon said. “And not to rush you or anything, but I did just confess some big ass feelings so it’d be pretty awesome if you told me how you felt about all of this. It’s cool if you’re not interested, I get it--”

 

Ryan leaned up onto his toes and kissed Dallon. This time, there was no other way to interpret it. Ryan was going to make himself perfectly clear, because apparently the two of them had been acting like a pair of dumbasses for the past four months, and Ryan wanted that to stop. He was also going to kick Spencer for letting him be a dumbass for so long, because part of Ryan and Spencer’s friendship was them keeping each other from being dumbasses. And waiting three extra months to kiss Dallon qualified Ryan as the biggest dumbass in the world. 

 

When Ryan pulled back, he had to breathe for a moment, because the kiss had been much longer than anticipated and he’d run out of air. Dallon looked pretty shaken up by it as well. Ryan smiled. “No, I’m definitely interested. Been interested for a while, really, but I didn’t think you’d want to do anything with me.”

 

“I’d pretty much do anything with you at this point,” Dallon said. He paused. “Except, like, murder. If you’re going to kill anyone I don’t need to be a part of that. I’d like to graduate on time, thanks.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ryan said. 

 

“So.” Dallon looked down at their hands. He looked back up at Ryan. “Does that mean… boyfriends?”

 

“Boyfriends,” Ryan said, and bit his lip to keep himself from breaking into a stupid grin. “That very much means boyfriends.”

 

“Awesome,” Dallon said. He leaned down and kissed Ryan, and Ryan kissed back and thought about all the times he could have done this before. And of all the times he could have spent the night in Dallon’s apartment instead of making Spencer go to one of his partner’s rooms. And of all the obvious signs he missed, which someone should have pointed out but no one did, and how Dallon’s mouth was soft and there was a patch of scruff he’d missed right under his jawline and it scratched against Ryan’s fingers. 

 

Ryan didn’t care, for a very long moment, that he and Dallon were out in the middle of campus and that anyone could see them. He didn’t worry that people would think they were a straight couple because it didn’t fucking matter then. Dallon liked him. Dallon fucking liked him, and was his boyfriend, and this was more than Ryan could ever ask for. 

 

It didn’t cure everything, because Ryan was still going to be depressed even with a boyfriend, and he was still going to deal with bullshit and dysphoria even though Dallon saw him as a guy. That was life. 

 

“I’ve been missing out,” Dallon said when he pulled back. He had a sideways smile on his face and Ryan loved it. “You’re, like, really good at the kissing thing.”

 

“Wait till I suck your dick,” Ryan said without thinking, and then blushed because he didn’t want Dallon to think he was was a slut. 

 

Dallon rubbed the back of his neck. “About that… I’m. I’m still a virgin.”

 

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow. 

 

Dallon laughed. “Yep.”

 

“How,” Ryan asked, because Dallon was a few years older than Ryan, tall as shit, and really gorgeous. “Is your dick deformed or something? Because I don’t think I’d care about that.”

 

“No I just--don’t judge me--but I was kind of waiting? Not, like, until marriage, but I wanted my first time to mean something,” Dallon said. At least he was also blushing. It was fair for the both of them. “And, shit, Ry, I want you to be the one, but I don’t want to just run into things, you know? I definitely want to have sex with you but I don’t want you to think that I see you as  _ just sex _ . You’re a lot more than that.”

 

“That’s the sweetest and dorkiest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Ryan said. Dallon rolled his eyes, and Ryan squeezed his hand. “I’m serious. And I’m cool with waiting, dude. I should probably learn to wait anyway.”

 

“You’re fine,” Dallon blurted out.

 

“I had to get an abortion,” Ryan said, because fuck it, if he couldn’t make fun of his own traumatic and awkward experiences, what else was he going to do with them? See a therapist? Yeah right. “Trust me, waiting’s a good idea.”

 

“I’ll wear, like, three condoms when we do it,” Dallon said. “Just to be safe.”

 

“Actually, wearing multiple condoms at once makes sex more dangerous,” Ryan said. He and Dallon had started walking again, back towards the pride center. Jon, Brendon, and Spencer were going to lose their shit. “So maybe don’t do that. I’ll try to get on birth control. I should have been on it in the first place, since apparently it makes periods happen less.”

 

“Oh, that sounds awesome,” Dallon said. “I heard periods suck.”

 

“How would you… oh yeah, you live with three chicks,” Ryan said. He squinted up at Dallon. The sun was back, now that it was April, and Ryan missed his sunglasses. “You know, most cis dudes are dicks when it comes to period shit. You get points for that.”

 

“I also have only sisters at home,” Dallon said. He smiled to himself. “I’m pretty sure my dad would blame that on why I’m gay now.”

 

“We should make out in front of your dad,” Ryan said. 

 

Dallon raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not. My parents have never known what I do out of the house and I’m not about to change that by coming out to them.”

 

“Alright, that makes sense,” Ryan said. “We do have to make out in front of Spencer, though. I dealt with enough from him this semester between Brendon and Linda.”

 

“I’m cool with that,” Dallon said. He paused in the walkway and kissed Ryan again, and Ryan kissed his boyfriend (!!!) back. It was a good way to end his Thursday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a really bad case of writer's block over the past few weeks, and I think I know why. Hopefully, I'll get over it and I'll start writing more again, because I love all of the fics I'm working on and I don't want to have to abandon any of them because it's too much. 
> 
> This one won't be abandoned, though, I promise. We're too close to the end and I don't want to be that asshole.

Spencer and Brendon were still in the pride center when Ryan and Dallon got back there. Ryan hadn’t let go of Dallon’s hand at all, and Dallon didn’t look like he was complaining. Ryan pushed the door open and Dallon walked in behind him, and Ryan thought about kissing him in the hallway to the pride center. There were windows, so anyone could look over their shoulder and see them, and it would be pretty funny to see how Ryan’s friends reacted. 

 

“You’re thinking,” Dallon said. “That’s dangerous.”

 

“How do you think they’d react if we just kissed?” Ryan asked. “Like, right here. No explanation, just a kiss and we walk in.”

 

“We might break your friends,” Dallon said. “I’m pretty sure my roommates had a betting pool going on somewhere.”

 

“Okay, well, that settles it for me,” Ryan said, and looked right at Spencer before kissing Dallon again. He distinctly heard Brendon say, “yo when the fuck” but he didn’t see any of the guy’s reactions because he was a little too busy kissing Dallon. He grinned into the kiss, ruining the image a little, but he was fucking excited. He had a boyfriend. Dallon wouldn’t suddenly alleviate all his dysphoria or anything, but hey. Ryan would take what he could get. 

 

Dallon pulled back for a moment, and then kissed Ryan again, and Ryan thought about mentioning that it was a little weird to start making out in front of the pride center. Then he decided that it didn’t matter. No one in there was going to complain about them being gay, because it was a fucking pride center. Ryan had walked in on Spencer and Brendon or Linda enough times that he figured it was worth it. 

 

“Stop making out!” Jon yelled from inside the center. “We get it, you talked about your feelings!”

 

Dallon pulled back, laughing too hard to keep kissing his boyfriend. Ryan looked Jon in the eyes and flipped him off, but then he took Dallon’s hand and pulled him into the center. 

 

Brendon started slow clapping, and soon enough everyone was doing it. Ryan felt like he’d walked into a tumblr post for a moment, but he figured it was his own fault. He could have told his friends he had a boyfriend like a normal person, but nope. He and Dallon decided to make their relationship obvious in a different way. 

 

Dallon bowed. “Thank you.”

 

“Who asked who out?” Spencer said. He was grinning around the straw of another iced coffee. There were a lot of iced coffees around the room. Iced coffee really was a gay thing, then. 

 

Dallon raised his hand and Ryan pointed at him. 

 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

 

“Really? I thought Ryan was going to, like, accidentally blurt it out or something,” Brendon said. He looked up at Ryan and shrugged. “Sorry. But you do do a lot of impulsive shit without thinking it through.”

 

“Says the man with a lip piercing from Claire’s,” Ryan said. 

 

Brendon pulled his lower lip into his mouth for a moment. “Shut it. We were there, and it was a good oppurtunity.”

 

“I thought Claire’s only did ear piercings,” Jon said. 

 

“Brendon’s special,” Ryan said. Brendon kicked his ankle. They’d changed the subject, which Ryan was fine with, but he knew he’d have to give the details later. He was looking forward to it. He’d had a crush on Dallon for literal months, and it was awesome to actually get to date him after all of the pining and drama Ryan had dealt with this semester. 

 

* * *

 

“You’re such a useless bisexual,” Spencer said. The two boys were back in their dorm, sitting on the carpet and eating chicken tenders. They’d grabbed them to go, and Ryan was enjoying them but also worried that there was too much food here. 

 

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Now I get to kick you out of the dorm.”

 

“Dallon has an entire fucking apartment!” Spencer exclaimed. He threw a fry at Ryan, and Ryan kept it. The fries were good. Not the best, but still pretty good. 

 

Ryan dipped his chicken tender into the sauce. He had no idea what was in the sauce, but it tasted better than sex and Ryan loved it. He gave Spencer a look. “You know that he and Linda are roommates, right? You could go over there instead of making Linda come over here all the time.”

 

“Yeah, but their other two roommates are dating each other, so they get first dibs on the apartment and I get first dibs on the dorm room because Brendon can’t have sex in his dorm,” Spencer said. They’d had this argument before, but that was when Ryan was mostly single. There was only a month and a half left in the semester, but Ryan wanted to be prepared anyway. He didn’t know how far away Dallon lived, but Ryan couldn’t drive and so if he wanted to see Dallon over the summer, Dallon would have to come to him. 

 

Ryan frowned. “So when Dallon and I have sex, where are we supposed to have it? Outside?”

 

“I mean, you could also be fucking in his apartment,” Spencer said. “It’s not like he shares a room with anyone.”

 

“He shares a bathroom,” Ryan said. “That’s close enough.”

 

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. I mean, we share a bathroom with two random guys on the other side of that wall, and I’ve never heard them having sex with anyone,” Spencer said. He took a bite from his chicken and stared Ryan down while washing it down with soda. “You guys could even have sex at the same time. It wouldn’t be a big deal.   
  


“That’s… that’s weird, even from you,” Ryan said. 

 

He felt like he was supposed to tell Spencer that he and Dallon weren’t going to have sex sometime in the next week. They didn’t have to figure the whole sex location thing out tonight. Dallon wanted to wait, and to ease into things, and even though there was a part of Ryan who wanted to get Dallon naked as soon as possible and have sex with him, he knew it was a good idea to wait a bit. Ryan had had a lot happen this semester. He didn’t want to make things weird between him and Dallon. 

 

“I should be insulted by that, but I’m not,” Spencer said. He frowned at Ryan for a moment. “Dallon doesn’t, like, treat you differently because of the trans thing, right?”

 

“No, of course not,” Ryan blurted out. He was afraid that that would change when Dallon saw him naked, but for now, Ryan believed Dallon. Dallon saw Ryan as a guy when they were dressed and Ryan could make himself look like a guy, and Ryan would take it. There weren’t a lot of people like that out there. 

 

Spencer nodded. “Good. If that ever changes, let me know, and I’ll kick his ass.”

 

“He’s, like, half a foot taller than you. And he runs. How  _ exactly _ are you going to kick his ass?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Nature finds a way,” Spencer said simply. 

 

Ryan and Spencer finished their food and then Spencer went down the hall and tossed the trash away in the community trash. The two of them needed to dump their own trash, but neither of them wanted to do it. Ryan stared at the can for a moment and then sighed. 

 

Fuck it, he’d get the trash. He grabbed a fresh bag from where Spencer kept them under his desk, tied the old one up, and replaced it with the new one. Ryan stood up, trash in hand, and the door to the dorm opened. 

 

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Dude. Why didn’t you do that when I took the food out?”

 

“Didn’t think about it,” Ryan said. Spencer held the door open, since he was there, and Ryan ducked under his arm before heading down the hall. He felt weird every time he left his dorm, because this was a guy hall, and while Ryan knew he was a guy, not everyone saw him as one. He got some weird looks from the other guys in the dorm, and Ryan was always grateful that they had suite style bathrooms instead of communal ones. 

 

He dropped the trash in the bin and turned around. There was a mirror across from the elevator, full length. Ryan stared himself down, looking at everything. He didn’t look at himself a lot, because he hated how he looked for the most part, and it gave him a lot of dysphoria. He tried not to be negative, and to figure out what exactly had caught Dallon’s eye. 

 

Ryan’s face was soft and round and he looked like a twelve year old boy. His hair wasn’t too bad, but he looked like he was supposed to be in 2007 and on MySpace. He was kind of tall, but he could have been taller, and he was skinny. Not thin, or slim, or whatever it was that guys used to describe someone who didn’t have a lot of weight. He was just bones on skin on baby fat. Not in that order. 

 

Dallon was tall, and he had really great legs and he didn’t look at all like a guy in a girl’s body. He wasn’t super masculine, but Ryan couldn’t imagine anyone calling Dallon a girl on accident. Ryan had made his body more androgynous, but it hadn’t worked the same way for him that it had for Dallon. Ryan just looked like a lesbian. Dallon looked like he belonged on a runway somewhere modelling indie tumblr clothes. 

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking gay.”

 

He turned and walked back to the dorm. Spencer had climbed up into his bed but he had his laptop out and was typing away on it. Ryan grabbed his notebook from ihs backpack and lad out on top of his own bed. “What’re you working on? An assignment?”

 

“I’m on twitter,” Spencer said. He looked up and smirked at Ryan. “Talking about how ridiculous you and Dallon are.”

 

“We’re not ridiculous,” Ryan said. “Just insecure. It happens sometimes.”

 

“I know, but it was frustrating for the rest of us,” Spencer said. He shook his head. “I can’t believe the two of you kissed back at that festival and then didn’t get together. Linda and I literally yelled about it for three hours when Dallon told her what happened.”

 

“Dallon told her about that?” Ryan exclaimed. It didn’t matter now, since he was dating the guy, but he’d thought that both of them had been too embarrassed by the kiss to bring it up with anyone. Ryan dropped his head down into his notebook. “Oh my God. You’re right. We really are hopeless.”

 

“Hey, you two figured things out,” Spencer said. He went back to twitter for a moment, and Ryan kept his forehead to his notebook. He only lifted his head again when he heard Spencer pause in his typing. “Why didn’t you tell me that? About the kiss?”

 

“I think there was a part of me that knew you’d make me talk to Dallon about it, and I wasn’t ready to talk to him then,” Ryan said. He didn’t mention that he’d found out about the pregnancy right after the music festival, and that had changed a lot of things. Ryan rolled over onto his side and closed his notebook. He could tell that he wouldn’t be getting any writing done tonight. “But yeah, I kissed Dallon. It was impulsive, and it made things weird for a bit, but clearly we’ve figured it all out.”

 

Spencer smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said, and he found himself smiling back. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk about eating disorders. 
> 
> Side note: I hate when fics are like "oh they fell in love now they're not mentally ill!" because that's not how real life works and I don't want to throw reality completely out the window. So yes, Ryan and Dallon are happy together (and will remain happy together), but they aren't going to magically become un-depressed or get over their mental health issues because they have each other. 
> 
> Side side note: we've hit the final arc of this fic! Yay! This fic is going to go into the summer, and if I had to guess I'd say we have about 5 chapters left? Don't hold me to that, though. I don't know my own writing process. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The rest of the semester went by in a flash. Ryan was still depressed, and he spent a lot of time in either his bed or in Dallon’s, just staring at the ceiling. Dallon let him, because Dallon understood that there were days where Ryan just couldn’t human. Ryan tried going on runs with Dallon twice, and both times, he regretted it because he felt like shit afterwards. Running was hard, and Ryan was fine being unfit and the first to die in a zombie apocalypse. 

 

And then suddenly, the final portfolio was due, and Ryan was sweating because he was terrified. The good news was that Dallon knew who all of the angsty love poetry was aimed at. The bad news was that the love poetry was only half of what Ryan had submitted. The rest of it was Ryan talking about dysphoria, and how he hated the way his body turned out and the way he was in general. 

 

There was a part of him that didn’t want Dallon to read that, because he didn’t want Dallon to pity him or see him as fragile and broken. Ryan knew he was broken. He didn’t want to be treated as such. 

 

Dallon somehow looked more nervous than Ryan felt. Ryan came in and took his usual seat beside Dallon, and reached out to take his hand. “Hey. You look like you’re about to pass out. Is everything okay?”

 

“I forgot that these were going to be public,” Dallon said. He bit his lip. “I know that art is about throwing your soul out for the world to see, but I think I threw out too much.”

 

“Whatever it is, it won’t change how I feel about you,” Ryan said. He squeezed Dallon’s hand. Dallon lifted their hands up to his mouth and quickly kissed the back of Ryan’s. His hand was cold from sweat. Ryan didn’t let go. They were just two stressed out dudes, holding hands in the back of a creative writing class. Nothing too weird, considering this was college. 

 

“I’m gonna throw up,” Dallon muttered. 

 

Ryan frowned and let go of him. He liked Dallon, but he didn’t want to see the guy vomiting. 

 

Dallon shook his head. “No, not… not actually. I don’t throw up unless I get a stomach bug. I messed up my gag reflex in high school.”

 

“Sounds like an interesting story,” Ryan said. 

 

Dallon shrugged. “Not really.”

 

Ryan didn’t push it. He took Dallon’s hand again, and watched as everyone else filed in and added their documents to the table at the front of the class. Ryan had a horrible feeling that no one else in the class would be talking about serious shit, and that he’d get sent to a counselor again because he was too honest about his feelings. Ryan didn’t talk about his problems to people. He talked through his hands, and through paper. Sometimes people read what he wrote, and thought that his writing always reflected his state of mind.

 

Ryan didn’t really want to kill himself, not like how his writing made him out to be. He was just tired, and words were a safe place to vent. People read into him too much. He wasn’t as deep as they wanted him to be. 

 

“Everyone here?” the professor asked. There was a wave of mumbling throughout the room as everyone accounted for themselves. The professor gave everyone a moment before continuing. “Alright. We have snacks and drinks, but make sure not to spill anything onto the writing. And don’t take anyone’s writing home with you. I still have to grade all of this.”

 

She motioned to the table with the papers. “Have at it.”

 

Dallon didn’t move at first. He looked torn between going straight to the writing and avoiding the inevitable by grabbing something from the food and drink table by the wall. Ryan understood completely, but he went for food first. There were too many people gathered around the writing, and he didn’t want to get claustrophobic as well as anxious. 

 

He had a feeling he’d be taking a depression nap in the pride center later today. This was a lot. 

 

Ryan grabbed a cup of Sprite and a slice of cheese pizza. He looked over his shoulder at Dallon, who was still sitting in his seat and watching Ryan. Ryan raised his eyebrow. A silent,  _ well? _ to his boyfriend. 

 

Dallon moved and crossed over to Ryan. He didn’t get anything. Ryan slowly moved the two of them towards the writing table. Some of the people had cleared off, and Ryan was interested in what his classmates had written about. A lot of the papers left were boring, and about childhoods full of camping or going to Disney World. Ryan didn’t know what it was like to be nostalgic for childhood. His childhood had sucked. 

 

Ryan spotted Dallon’s portfolio. He motioned to it. “Can I…?”

 

“Go for it,” Dallon said. He had his hands in his pockets and he was looking at the other projects. His hair was in his face, and when he blinked, it shifted away from his eyelashes. He was still really, really pretty. 

 

Ryan bit his lip and grabbed the folder off the table. He could kiss Dallon later. After class. Even after the depression nap in the pride center. Or he could skip the depression nap and makeout with Dallon instead. He probably wouldn’t sleep well, because he’d fuck up his semi-realistic sleeping schedule, but it’d be worth it. Probably. 

 

There was a lot in Dallon’s portfolio about Ryan. Or at least, about someone who Ryan assumed was himself now that he and Dallon were dating. There was also a lot about religion, and guilt, which didn’t surprise Ryan. Ryan had never believed in God, because he’d never been to church, but he knew that religion fucked people up. It had fucked Brendon up, and it had almost fucked Spencer up. Spencer’s parents cared more about their kids than about mythology, though, and so they’d moved to a different church that wouldn’t doom Spencer to hell for liking guys and girls. 

 

Ryan flipped the page over and hit a wall of text. It was about being trapped in a body that was too big, too much, too bad, too off. He looked over at Dallon, feeling his heart twist down into his chest. Dallon wasn’t paying attention to Ryan anymore, though. He'd found someone else’s work to read, and he was invested in that. 

 

Ryan looked back at the text.  _ you look in the mirror and the man you see is the softness your father never allowed you. you look in the mirror and wonder if there’s a way to cut it out. if there’s a way for your legs to not touch the way men’s legs are supposed to be two seperate concepts. take up space. don’t touch. don’t touch yourself of other men. that’s not who you are and it makes you bad.  _ Ryan swallowed. Shit. It felt like he was reading his own thoughts, but through the eyes of someone else. 

 

He looked over at Dallon again. Dallon was still reading. Ryan wanted to go over to him, but he didn’t. This wasn’t something they could do in public. This was one of those gay moments that the world wouldn’t understand, and Ryan didn’t want to make things hard for Dallon. 

 

He could wait. 

 

He did wait. Ryan didn’t bring Dallon’s writing up during the class, even though a few people came up and asked him about his writing. Ryan could wait. They’d have time. They were together, and they hung out a lot. 

 

Ryan followed Dallon out of the classroom and all the way back up to the pride center. Dallon still looked a little stressed. Ryan frowned, and pulled Dallon into the gender neutral bathroom at the beginning of the hall. It was gross and warm and smelled vaguely of piss, but it was the one spot on campus where Ryan knew no one would bother them. It was the gay bathroom, after all. Straight people didn’t use it. 

 

Dallon looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, stretching his neck out. “Was there a reason you pulled me into the bathroom?”

 

“I wanted…” Ryan said. He let out a deep breath, and regretted it because he inhaled the piss scent. “I read your stuff. And it was good, but… I don’t. Do your parents know you’re gay?”

 

“No,” Dallon said. He frowned. “I wasn’t writing about that, though. I was writing about… other stuff.”

 

“What other stuff?” Ryan asked. He’d thought it was about Dallon not knowing how to be gay and be his parent’s son. Ryan knew what that felt like, because he’d lived it himself. Ryan reached out without thinking and turned Dallon’s wrists over. They were smooth. 

 

Dallon moved his hands so that he was holding Ryan’s. “I’m… I have a lot of reasons why I’ve never had sex. Waiting for the right person is one of them, but I don’t… I don’t like people seeing me naked.”

 

“I get that,” Ryan said. He kissed Dallon’s knuckles. “Body issues suck.”

 

“No, Ryan, that’s not what I mean,” Dallon said. Ryan looked up at him. Dallon looked uncomfortable. Ryan opened his mouth to tell Dallon that he didn’t have to tell Ryan everything, but Dallon started talking again. “I have--I don’t like food.”

 

Ryan stared at him for a moment, because that didn’t really make sense. Sure, there were times where Ryan felt like such a void that he didn’t want to eat any food because he knew it would all taste the same to him, but he didn’t hate it. He just didn’t care about it. Ryan knew he didn’t eat like normal people were supposed to eat. Spencer tried to keep Ryan on track, but Spencer was also bad at remembering to eat at normal hours and the two of them often ended up drinking a bunch of coffee instead of getting food. 

 

Dallon pinched the skin between Ryan’s thumb and forefinger. “Ryan. Ryan, I have… I can’t say it.”

 

“Can you describe it?” Ryan asked. That was one of the only good things he’d gotten out of his short therapy experience. He couldn’t always get the exact words out, but he was good at describing himself and his symptoms, and that was enough for most people. 

 

“You know those girls that take sad black and white pictures of themselves in the mirror and try to get space between their legs?” Dallon asked. Ryan nodded, and Dallon stopped pinching him. Ryan knew it wasn’t on purpose, and it wasn’t a hard pinch either. He rubbed his thumb over Dallon’s hand. Dallon looked down at their hands. “I’m. I’m pretty much one of those girls.”

 

Ryan paused. “As in… you starve yourself?”

 

Dallon shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s… I don’t talk about it. Guys don’t have eating disorders.”

 

“Yeah they do,” Ryan said. “Girls are just more public about it. And there’s all the stuff about how women’s bodies are more policed than guys, but Dal… that doesn’t mean you can’t be affected.”

 

“But I am,” Dallon said. “And I don’t want anyone to see me, or know that I’m like this.”

 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not okay with,” Ryan said. He kissed Dallon’s hand. “Pretty sure that’s part of the whole relationship thing. Boundaries and all that.”

 

Dallon smiled from under his bangs. He looked over at the door to the bathroom. “Do we have to go back in there? I’m not feeling up to people.”

 

“I’m not either,” Ryan said. “Wanna go back to my dorm instead? It’s closer, and I’m pretty sure Spencer isn’t there right now. We can kick him out if he is.”

 

“Yeah. That sounds great,” Dallon said. He looked like something had been lifted off of his back. Ryan didn’t know how to deal with someone with an eating disorder, since he was bad at eating himself, but he could try. Maybe if he thought about Dallon eating he’d remember to eat as well, and they’d edge closer to normal together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to try and guess how many chapters are left because I did that with Mile Marker 17 and failed horrifically. I will say that there are three major events left, so there will most likely be 3-5 more chapters before this fic is done. 
> 
> That's exciting, I guess?

Ryan and Dallon didn’t see each other during exam week. There was too much going on, and they didn’t have to go to their creative writing class because the final portfolio had been their final exam. Ryan barely left his dorm during that week, because he had too many essays due and one in class test to study for. Spencer was there too, but without Brendon or Linda because they were all doing exam things. 

 

He was on his way back from turning in his final essay of the year when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Ryan pulled it out and saw it was from Jon:  _ hey we’re all at dallon’s apartment throwing a grad party wanna join? _ Ryan responded that he would, and then texted Dallon and asked if he knew who was graduating. 

 

_ i am _ , was Dallon’s reply, and Ryan called him immediately. “You’re graduating?”

 

“Uh, yeah?” Dallon sounded confused. “I thought I told you.”

 

“I don’t think you did,” Ryan said. He wasn’t pissed, just surprised. He knew Dallon was older than him, but he didn’t think that they’d only have one semester of college together. That seemed too short. 

 

“Ry, I’m sorry, I should have brought it up--”

 

“No, it’s okay,” Ryan said, because it was. “I’m not mad. I just didn’t realise you were leaving already. You’re not moving far away or anything, are you?”

 

“No, don’t worry,” Dallon said. Ryan could hear him smiling through the phone. He missed Dallon’s smile. “I’ve got a retail job for the summer and then hopefully I’ll be able to move onto bigger and brighter futures.”

 

“Sounds exciting,” Ryan said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. I’m on my way over.”

 

“Okay,” Dallon said. “Love you.”

 

“Love--” Ryan choked out, but Dallon had ended the call before Ryan could really process what had just happened. So his boyfriend was graduating college, not leaving, and loved him. Ryan wanted to do a cartwheel and then throw himself in front of a bus. He didn’t understand any of the emotions rolling around in his body. 

 

Ryan looked at his phone. “Love you too?”

 

Ryan weighed his options. He could scream now, and receive a lot of judgement from the college students around him, or he could shove that entire conversation into the back of his mind and have an anxiety attack about it later when he was alone in his dorm. 

 

He went with the latter and turned his music up so that there was no room in his brain for coherent thought. Ryan didn’t want to talk about love, or being in love and what that meant for Dallon specifically. He wasn’t an easy person to love. He knew that. He had a horrible feeling that Dallon didn’t, and that Dallon was setting himself up to be very, very disappointed. Ryan didn’t know what he was doing with his emotions. Having a boyfriend who treated him as something other than a sex toy wasn’t changing that. 

 

Ryan made it to Dallon’s apartment without saying or doing anything stupid, and knocked on the door. 

 

Dallon opened it and immediately pulled Ryan into a hug. Ryan let out an “oof” before hugging his boyfriend back. Dallon smelled really good. Like shampoo and orange soap. He was fresh.  _ Freshly cleaned boyfriend, here for the loves _ , Ryan’s brain said. Ryan made a face at himself. He was hanging out with Brendon and Jon too much. His brain was thinking in shitposts now. That was not a coping mechanism Ryan wanted. 

 

Dallon pulled back, keeping his hands on Ryan’s shoulders. “Hey. So I’m an idiot.”

 

“What,” Ryan’s mouth said before his brain could function like a normal organ again. Not that it ever had, but Ryan was allowed to dream. 

 

“I told you I loved you and then I hung up on you. Which was really stupid, and not a good plan,” Dallon said. He dropped his gaze for a moment. “So, uh, if you don’t mind, can I try again?”

 

“I… I guess?” Ryan said. “But I… Dallon, are you sure?”

 

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” Dallon said. He shrugged. Ryan was pretty sure there were people in the apartment, but they all seemed preoccupied and he couldn’t see over Dallon’s shoulders to know for sure. 

 

Ryan frowned. “I’m kind of a difficult person. And, like, traumatised and all that shit.”

 

“And? So am I,” Dallon said. “Just in different ways. I don’t care, though, because I do mean it, and I do love you, and I’d love you even if you loved yourself.”

 

Ryan laughed. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

 

“I’m trying here; give me a break.”

 

“I know,” Ryan said. He leaned up on his toes and kissed Dallon for a moment. The sun was warm on their skin, and he could hear a song by the Strokes playing from within the apartment. Ryan pulled back and looked Dallon over. He smiled. “I love you, too. I didn’t get to say that earlier.”

 

“Sorry,” Dallon said. He looked genuinely sorry about it, too.

 

“It’s cool,” Ryan said. “I like this better than over the phone.”

 

Dallon grinned and kissed him again. Ryan felt like something was settling inside of him. It was if something had been running around in a panic, and Dallon had calmed that. Ryan didn’t know if they’d last, or if Dallon would wake up one day and realise that Ryan was too much to put up with, but he felt okay. That was more than enough for now. 

 

Ryan pulled back from the kiss. “So. Do we go inside now?”

 

“Probably,” Dallon said. He took Ryan’s hand and pulled him into the apartment. Ryan knew everyone there except for one dude with bright blue hair who was talking to Linda on the couch. Dallon brought Ryan over and tapped the blue haired dude on the shoulder. “Hey. Meet my boyfriend.”

 

The guy turned around. “You’re real?”

 

Ryan stared. “Uh. Yes?”

 

“Nice,” he smiled. “I thought Dallon was fucking with me.”

 

Ryan looked up at Dallon. 

 

Dallon winked. “You’re both named Ryan.”

 

“Oh,” Ryan said. He turned to the other Ryan. “Do you have something else I can call you?”

 

“You can call me whatever you want as long as it’s not my last name because I’m not dealing with that shit,” Other Ryan said. 

 

“His last name’s Seaman,” Linda said. Other Ryan flipped her off. Linda shrugged. “He’d find out eventually. I mean, you are Dallon’s only high school friend.”

 

“I’m not his  _ only _ friend,” Other Ryan said. “I’m just the only one who didn’t turn out to be a piece of shit.”

 

“True,” Dallon said. 

 

Ryan felt like he was listening to a podcast instead of being in reality. He realised he didn’t know much about Dallon other than his life at college and that he was just as mentally fucked up as Ryan was, just in different ways. It was weird. They’d only known each other for a few months, and even though Ryan considered himself close to Dallon, there was still a lot he didn’t know about the guy. 

 

It was stressful to think about. Ryan didn’t think Dallon was hiding anything from him, because Dallon didn’t seem to be the type, but he was paranoid. About everything. Sure, Dallon had talked about having an eating disorder, and dealing with depression, and that was good because it was important to talk about that shit, but he hadn’t told Ryan everything. Ryan hadn’t asked about anything, yet, and he didn’t know if he was allowed. 

 

Dallon squeezed Ryan’s hand. “You good there? You blanked out for a second.”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Ryan said. “I was just thinking too much. It happens sometimes.”

 

“If you ever want to think out loud, I’ll listen,” Dallon said. 

 

Ryan raised his eyebrows. That was sweet, but Ryan had some really not great thoughts. “Are you sure? Because I think about some weird shit.”

 

“Try me sometime,” Dallon said. “I might surprise you.”

 

The thing was, Ryan knew Dallon was right. Dallon had been surprising him the entire time they’d known each other. Ryan had thought Dallon was just another vaguely annoying straight guy when they first met, and then he’d moved from that to being worried Dallon only saw him as a girl. And now they were past that, and Dallon was talking to Ryan about serious, secret things he didn’t tell other people. 

 

Ryan meant something to Dallon. Dallon loved Ryan, which was such a wild concept because no one ever said they loved Ryan. Not like that. Spencer loved Ryan, but as a friend or a brother. Spencer didn’t look at Ryan like he made the stars in the sky, but Dallon did. 

 

Fuck. Ryan really was falling for this guy, and he was terrified. But he was letting it happen, because he wanted it to be good. He wanted to love, and be loved, and if he could have that with Dallon, then he’d take it. Ryan knew they were both damaged, and he was getting to be okay with that. 

 

Ryan took a deep breath and kissed Dallon. Right there, in the middle of Dallon’s apartment, with all of their friends watching. Because he loved him and because Ryan didn’t think that there was anything that could change how he felt about Dallon. Not now. Maybe not ever. Ryan smiled into the kiss. “Yeah. I know. I just have to get used to it.”

 

Dallon looked at Ryan for a moment, his soft blue eyes scouring Ryan’s face. He smiled. “Take your time.”

 

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “It might be a while.”

 

“I can wait,” Dallon said. “You said you’d wait for me, so I’ll wait for you, too. I think that’s part of the whole being in love and being in a relationship thing.”

 

It was. Ryan just hadn’t realised how exciting it was to get to  _ wait _ . He was so used to friends with benefits and random people who didn’t give a shit. He was used to putting himself out there early, because that was the only way to know if things would work out or not, but now he didn’t have to. Ryan and Dallon could take as much time as they needed with each other. It was a huge relief Ryan hadn’t known he needed. 

 

He kissed Dallon again. That was the one thing he didn’t want to wait on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit of plot progression, so yay! Again, IDK how many more chapters there are in this fic, and I don't trust myself enough to guess. 
> 
> Side note: I personally have not started my physical transitioning, so if I'm making any of Ryan's unrealistic it's not on purpose, it's because I'm a dumbass and didn't do enough research.

Ryan was at Spencer’s house again. He’d left most of his stuff here, because he didn’t want to be around his dad much. His dad was trying to be sober, but he was being a little bitch about everything, and Ryan was just… he was tired. He knew what happiness could feel like now, and he didn’t want to go back to his old normal. 

 

Spencer appeared at the door. “Hey. Not to make you panic, but didn’t you have a thing today?”

 

Ryan shot up. “Oh, shit!”

 

“So you did,” Spencer said. He wiggled his car keys at Ryan. “I can drive you.”

 

“I thought your mom was going to take me,” Ryan said. Unlike him, Spencer had a summer job, and was at work as much as he was at home or hanging out with Linda/Brendon. 

 

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I ask less questions.”

 

“Good point,” Ryan said. He grabbed a pair of flip flops, because it was June and no one could tell him not to, and followed Spencer to his car. Ryan wasn’t nervous, because he’d wanted to go on T since he was sixteen, but he wasn’t sure what was coming. He’d heard horror stories about people being forced to wait years to start their transitions because they didn’t seem “trans enough.” Ryan didn’t want to be one of those people. 

 

He pulled out his phone and texted Dallon,  _ hey. on my way to drs office. dont forget to eat _

 

_ dal: u too babe _

_ dal: im not the one getting stabbed today _

 

Ryan laughed and told Dallon that there was a high chance he wouldn’t get stabbed, since this was a consultation and not a real appointment. They’d developed a habit of texting each other to try and keep themselves on track when it came to food. Dallon wanted to get better, and Ryan wanted to have some semblance of being a neurotypical person, but food was hard. Dallon hated it and Ryan never remembered it was even a thing. 

 

“Are you texting him?” Spencer asked. 

 

“What gave it away?” Ryan said. He didn't bother to hide the blush on his cheeks. Spencer was his best friend. He was allowed to tease Ryan for having a boyfriend. 

 

“Well, it’s too early for you and Jon to be shitposting at each other, and my phone’s not going off so it can’t be the groupchat either,” Spencer said. He gave Ryan a side-eye. “And you don’t talk to enough people online for it to be someone I don’t know.”

 

Ryan flipped him off. He had friends outside of the Pride center group, but it was weird talking to them now. Before Ryan and Dallon had started dating, Ryan had been in an open relationship with most of his friends other than Spencer, Jon, and Brendon. And then Dallon came along, with his apartment full of women, and Ryan’s friend group nearly doubled. And then it was weird to hang out with people he had sex with, because he was off the table for the first time in his life.

 

Ryan knew Dallon wouldn’t mind if he had sex with other people. They’d established that that was okay. The truth was that Ryan didn’t  _ want _ to have sex with anyone else. He was really into Dallon, and only Dallon. 

 

Ryan rubbed his face. “Holy shit.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m, like, genuinely in love with Dallon,” Ryan said. 

 

Spencer nodded. “You’ve mentioned that before, yes.”

 

“Spencer,” Ryan said. “I mean… he’s hot? And he’s the only person I really think of as hot?”

 

“Are you including famous people or not? Because if you’ve suddenly stopped wanting to fuck young Harrison Ford I’m going to have to take you to the hospital,” Spencer said. He glanced over at Ryan as they came to a stop. His face was serious. “But… I mean… if you really do like Dallon, you should tell him.”

 

“He knows, Spence,” Ryan said. 

 

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up. 

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yes, surprise, I talked about my feelings for once in my life. It happens sometimes. Dallon knows I’m in love with him, and he’s in love with me, and it’s not as different as I thought it would be.”

 

“What do you mean? It is… is the relationship boring or something?” Spencer asked. He looked concerned. Ryan wished he wasn’t, because Ryan wasn’t concerned. Spencer was the one who knew what was going on with relationships, because he’d had actual experience with them and knew what to do with himself. Ryan, on the other hand, was a complete disaster with no realistic dating experience and probably wouldn’t notice shit. 

 

Ryan sighed. “It’s not that. I just… I thought that things would change a lot when I started dating-dating someone, but it feels normal. The only difference is that instead of telling you how attractive I think Dallon is, I get to actually tell him to his face.”

 

“And, like, gay shit,” Spencer said. “Right?”

 

“Yeah, totally,” Ryan said. “Just figured you wouldn’t want to hear all the details about me and Dallon and getting down and dirty.”

 

“Let me put it this way,” Spencer said. He put on his blinker and turned into the office park where Ryan’s appointment was. “If you never tell me, I’ll still live.”

 

“Good to know,” Ryan said. He’d probably tell Spencer whenever he and Dallon had sex. It would be a while from now, and Ryan was fine with that. The more he thought about having sex with Dallon, the more nervous he got about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t that Ryan was losing interest in the guy, because he definitely  _ was not _ . It was the idea of having sex with someone who Ryan really, really cared about. 

 

Ryan liked Dallon. He loved Dallon, too, and even though he knew Dallon wouldn’t judge him for his body, he was still worried. Ryan wanted their sex to be good-- _ great _ , actually--and he was worried Dallon wouldn’t be into it. Or, that Ryan would do something in bed that freaked Dallon out and then ruined the relationship. 

 

Ryan didn’t want to fuck things up. 

 

Spencer turned the car off and tapped Ryan’s knee. “Hey. Don’t overthink things.”

 

“I wasn’t thinking about the appointment,” Ryan said. He should have been. He needed to have a convincing, boringly stereotypical trans story to recite. He knew his own transition was normal enough for the cis doctors to let him go on T, but he was used to disappointment. 

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Spencer said. “Whatever you’re thinking about, if it goes wrong, we can just… set it on fire.”

 

“I was thinking about having sex with Dallon, dude,” Ryan said. 

 

“Huh,” Spencer said. “Well. Um. If that goes wrong. I guess we can set Dallon on fire?”

 

“No!” Ryan exclaimed, and flicked Spencer in the arm. “Don’t set him on fire. I like him, and if us having sex is awkward, we’ll figure it out. We can’t figure it out if you burn his dick off.”

 

“Alright, fine, we won’t set your problems on fire,” Spencer said. “I’ll figure something out while you’re in there.”

 

“Thanks,” Ryan said, and rolled his eyes. He was nervous, but he knew that he’d be nervous no matter what he did, so he didn’t mention it to Spencer. There wasn’t anything Spencer could do, and Ryan didn’t want to be a burden on him. 

 

Ryan got out of the car and walked around to the entrance of the building. He had to ask a few people where he was supposed to go to find the right office, but eventually he found it and checked himself in. Ryan hated doctors. He wasn’t afraid of needles, or convinced they were trying to kill him or anything like that. His dad got sick a lot, because of his drinking and general lack of health, and he’d had to go to the ER a few times because of it. On top of that, Ryan got called by his dead name every time he went to see a doctor. 

 

This time was different. He still had to fill out all the medical information, but there was a like under the “first name” category that read “preferred name.” Ryan grinned a little when he saw it, and texted Dallon. He was excited, even though he knew it was a tiny thing that no cis person would care about. 

 

_ dal: does that count as being an ally _

_ ryan: no? _

_ dal: ok no ally points yet _

_ dal: keep me updated babe _

 

Ryan smiled to himself and put his phone back while he waited for his name to be called. There was a part of him that wished he’d asked Spencer to come in with him, but he knew that wasn’t a good precedent to set. If this went well, and Ryan got to start T, there would eventually be times when he had to refill his perscription or talk to his gender therapist alone. 

 

An older looking guy opened the door and called out Ryan’s name. Ryan brushed his hair out of his face and got up. He walked over and followed the man back to an office, and explained why he was there. Ryan hadn’t always known he was trans, but he said that looking back, it should have been obvious that he wasn’t a girl. Most of his friends were guys. He didn’t really do girly stuff (he didn’t mention poetry or how he’d seriously considered going on Project Runway during high school). Ryan was a boy, he just didn’t realise it for a while because the world told him he was supposed to be a girl. 

 

The meeting felt long and short at the same time. Ryan was nervous and sweaty the whole time, because he kept almost convincing himself that this wouldn’t work out and he still wouldn’t be able to go on T. He couldn’t get a good read on the doctor, so he didn’t know if he was saying the right things or not. 

 

Eventually, though, the doctor nodded and motioned for Ryan to stop talking. Ryan did so immediately. The doctor looked down at his notepad and then up at Ryan again. 

 

Ryan swallowed. “So. Um. Yeah, that’s… that’s my story?”

 

“I think we can start you on HRT soon,” the doctor said. Ryan barely heard the rest. He heard something about insurance, which he had through his dad, and paperwork and blah blah blah--Ryan didn’t give a shit. He’d done it. He was getting hormones, and he was never going to have to listen to his stupid girly voice again. 

 

People would stop calling him ma’am. He wouldn’t look like Spencer’s kid brother. He could get into places without people wondering where his parents were. Ryan would finally be Ryan and not a watered down, feminised version of himself. 

 

He grinned at the doctor. “Thank you. Um. Do I have to give myself the shots?”

 

“No,” he said. “You can set up appointments to have one of the nurses on staff do that for you. Your insurance should cover that as well.”

 

That was a great thing to hear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me last update: Idk how many more chapters this fic will have so I'm not putting an "out of X chapters" thing on it  
> Me today: actually there's one more left I've decided
> 
> Make bold choices, kids.

“You should start a YouTube channel,” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan glared at him. “No.”

 

“What? All the trans dudes do it!” Brendon exclaimed. 

 

Ryan threw a piece of popcorn at him. It was appropriate. The five of them (Linda, Dallon, Ryan, Spencer, Brendon) were in Spencer’s basement. Jon was on his way over with pizza, but he probably wouldn’t need it because of the amount of popcorn everyone was going through. Pizza was microwaveable, though, so Ryan wasn’t too worried. 

 

“What would you even do on YouTube?” Dallon asked. He threaded his hand through Ryan’s. “No offense, but most of your art is made for paper.”

 

“This is my voice two days on T,” Spencer said. He dropped his voice to sound like Thor. “This is my voice  _ three _ days on T.”

 

Ryan threw popcorn at him, too, since he still had the bag. “Fuck you. It doesn’t work that fast.”

 

“Yu could always just film us together and call it vlogging,” Linda suggested. “Hell, I’d help you edit stuff. I know how to video edit.”

 

“I don’t have a good camera,” Ryan said. 

 

“Once you get subs, you can get one,” Linda said. “Most vlogging is done on phone cameras anyway, so I think you’ll be fine. You just have to be funny, and not take too much time explaining things. The new YouTube doesn’t care so much about the quality and depth of content. It’s more interested in entertainment.”

 

“You’ve thought about this,” Brendon said. He raised a (now pierced) eyebrow. 

 

Linda shrugged. “I’m in advertising. I have to think about it.”

 

Ryan didn’t know anything about YouTube and becoming famous. He didn’t want to become famous, especially not on a platform that was all about his face and his voice. He’d only been on T for a few weeks, and nothing important had happened. He got overheated easier, and he was pretty sure he needed a stronger deodorant, but that was it. No one online wanted to hear about Ryan being a sweaty mess. 

 

“You’re graduating this year, right?” Dallon asked. He managed to drag the conversation away from Ryan, which Ryan was fine with. He still didn’t like having everyone’s attention on him, but he was getting better at dealing with people wanting to know things about him. 

 

Ryan wondered if that was a side-effect of being on T. He’d spent so much of his life trying to stay out of everyone’s way and not get noticed, but now that he was settling into his own skin he felt like he could be himself a bit more. 

 

Jon showed up with the pizza while everyone was talking about Stranger Things and whether Steve could be considered a DILF or not. He didn’t have any biological kids, but he’d practically adopted the kids during the second season. Ryan didn’t think he was old enough to be a DILF, because there was an unspoken rule that DILFs had to be full grown adults. Steve was still in high school, even though the actor who played him was around Ryan’s friends’ ages. 

 

Jon shook his head and deposited the pizza boxes on the table. “He’s, like, seventeen in the show. He’s too young to be a dad.”

 

“”He’s a dad spiritually,” Brendon said. He reached forward and grabbed one of the slices of pizza. It was mushroom and green pepper. “It’s close enough.”

 

“It’s really not,” Ryan said. He didn’t understand Brendon sometimes. He was pretty sure that the guy only said half the things he said to see how people would react to him. Brendon was definitely a youngest child. 

 

“Okay, fine,” Brendon said. “If you don’t want fuck Steve, who in Stranger Things do you wanna fuck?”

 

Without thinking, Ryan pointed at Dallon. 

 

Dallon choked on his water, and Ryan sputtered out an apology while their friends tried to hide their laughter. Ryan and Dallon hadn’t had sex, but they’d been making out regularly, and Ryan had reached a point where he didn’t feel the need to fuck on sight. Sure, he was horny a lot and he jacked off pretty frequently, but he didn’t need to have sex with Dallon. He was excited for whenever it happened, but he wasn’t interested in rushing his boyfriend. 

 

“Dallon’s not in Stranger Things,” Linda said. She tossed a can of Coke to Jon, who managed to catch it while holding a plate of pizza in one hand. Linda gave him a thumbs up. “Nice.”

 

“I do my best,” Jon said, and bowed. His pizza nearly slid off of his plate then, and he quickly pulled the plate back down so that he wouldn’t lose his food. 

 

“We should go out,” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Like on a date?”

 

“No, what?” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan laughed. “That’s a joke, dude. I wouldn’t want to share you with Dallon.”

 

“Who said I’m dating Brendon?” Dallon said, making a face from behind his glass of water. He bumped his knee against Ryan. “He’s all yours babe. You don’t have to share.”

 

“I’m not dating either of you,” Brendon said. He rolled his eyes. “Anyway. We should go out. Do something that isn’t just sitting in Spencer’s basement and watching Netflix.”

 

“I literally just arrived with the food,” Jon said. 

 

“After we eat,” Brendon said. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it for a moment. “I think… there’s a carnival thing? At the mall. We can pay for overpriced rides and win stuffed animals and shit. It’ll be fun.”

 

“Aw, the punk wants to get stuffed animals,” Spencer said. He leaned over and kissed Brendon on the cheek. 

 

Brendon swatted him away, blushing regardless. “Shut up. Stuffed animals are badass.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Dallon said. “How late is it open?”

 

“Uh…. midnight? Which seems sketch but I don’t care that much,” Brendon said. 

 

No one had any arguments, and so a plan was made. The six of them could fit in one car, which meant they wouldn’t have to find a bunch of parking spots, and Ryan could drive if anyone wanted to get alcohol. He always ended up being the designated driver, and that was why he’d bothered to get a license in the first place. It was easier to get his dad back home from the bar when he didn’t have to spend money on a cab. 

 

Dallon put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder as everyone else was heading up the stairs. “Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

 

Ryan looked up the stairs. Everyone had left them behind anyway, so no one would question Ryan and Dallon staying in the basement for a bit. Spencer wouldn’t leave without Ryan. Their friends wouldn’t go without them. 

 

Ryan turned back to Dallon and nodded. “Yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

 

“I don’t--” Dallon said, and then stopped himself. He took a deep breath, and it looked like whatever he was trying to say was going to take a moment. Ryan tried not to panic. He wanted to be a good boyfriend, and be supportive and all of that stuff. He loved Dallon, and he didn’t want Dallon to be hurting, in any way. 

 

“I like hanging out with you guys,” Dallon said, all in a rush. “But I can’t… I don’t… I can’t eat in front of people. And I can’t keep… acting like I have a reason not to.”

 

Ryan frowned. “Doesn’t Linda know?”

 

“You’re the only real life friend I have who knows,” Dallon said. He folded his arms over his chest and looked away from Ryan for a moment. 

 

Ryan chewed at the skin on his lip. “Do you… do you want Linda to know? Or any of your other friends?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dallon said. He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m being… I’m being ridiculous. I’m fine, it’s fine.”

 

“It doesn’t look like it,” Ryan said. He had no idea what to do in this situation. Part of him wanted to let it go, because Ryan knew that when he got emotional he hated for people to try and push shit out of him. On the other hand, he knew that it was healthy to talk about shit. Even if there wasn’t a solution. Talking was supposed to help, even if it didn’t feel like it did. Ryan didn’t know if he believed that, but it was better than keeping shit in his head, not telling anyone or writing about it, and then having a mental breakdown and self-harming again. 

 

Dallon frowned. “It’s okay.”

 

Ryan nodded. “We don’t… we don’t have to talk about it, but… you’re my boyfriend. I’m here for you. I want to be… I don’t know. But I want to figure shit out with you.”

 

Dallon smiled. “Thanks, Ry.”

 

Ryan swallowed. He still felt like he was doing something wrong. There should have been something he could offer Dallon, some kind of encouragement or proof that he wasn’t fucked up or ugly or whatever was going on in his head. 

 

“You know I’m here for you, too, right?” Dallon said. “This isn’t one sided. You’re not my therapist.”

 

“I’d be a shit therapist,” Ryan said, and laughed at himself. 

 

Dallon raised his eyebrows. 

 

“What?” Ryan said. He shrugged. “I would. I’m not… I’m a mess.”

 

“We’re both a mess,” Dallon said. “We’ll be messes together.”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. Dallon offered out his hand, and Ryan took it. Nothing had been solved, and Ryan hated that, because he felt like he was supposed to be doing better, but he let Dallon take him out of the basement. 

 

Spencer was better at this kind of shit. Maybe that was why he was dating Brendon and Linda. Maybe that was why he could put up with Ryan being a dumbass. 

 

Dallon squeezed Ryan’s hand. “Hey. Don’t overthink it.”

 

“I’m trying not to,” Ryan said, and squeezed back. Because, really. He was. He just sucked at not thinking about things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, kids, because I'm about to get really sappy. 
> 
> I started writing this fic during the spring semester of my sophomore year of college. At that point, I'd been dating a girl for about a year, and she was living illegally with me in an on campus student apartment. I didn't know it at the time that I started writing Secrets, but the relationship was really unhealthy and emotionally/sexually abusive. I was pushed into doing a lot of things that I didn't want to, and I was isolated from my friends a lot. Also, about a week or two after I posted the first chapter of this fic, I attempted to kill myself, saw Green Day in concert, ended my previous relationship, and got on anti-depressants. All in about a week. 
> 
> So that was a lot. 
> 
> The Ryan in this fic is very, very close to who I am as a person. He and I have gone through some similar bullshit in life, and we're equally fucked up. I didn't go to therapy or anything after that shit show of a spring semester. My parents don't really believe in therapy or long-term mental illnesses, and I wasn't about to tell them /why/ I really needed therapy. So, instead of talking to a therapist, I threw myself into writing and self-reflection, and out came a very angry, very angsty Ryan Ross. 
> 
> There is a happy ending to this story, just like there's a happy ending for Ryan in this fic. I'm moving into a new apartment in the fall, going to a school that isn't run by close-minded assholes, and I've got a boyfriend. I know that romantic partners don't solve everything, and I wanted to make it perfectly clear in this fic (and in all my writing, really) that the characters shacking up with each other doesn't mean they aren't still mentally ill/traumatised/whatever. 
> 
> In the past month and a half, I've been up and down. I haven't written as much for bandom as I used to, and I think that's because I'm not really in bandom anymore. I still love the stories I've created, and I don't have anywhere better to go, but I don't feel like I have to throw myself at fanfiction anymore. My life isn't perfect. I'm happier now that I'm dating Dallon (yes, I know. I'm dating a person named Dallon who perfectly parallels the Dallon in this fic, shush), but they haven't solved everything. They've just given me a reason to keep at it. And, like the last line in this fic, that's more than I could have ever asked for. 
> 
> So, before I end up writing a fucking essay, I want to say thank you to everyone who's read this fic. You've seen me and Ryan go through some shit, you've stuck with us for over a year, and I wish there was a way for me to hug all of you and tell you you're all awesome. I don't know if anyone will read this fic and have it hit home for them, but if you've been reading this and relating: it does get better. Not always in a cheesy teen RomCom way, not always like the Love, Simon stories make it out to be, but it does. 
> 
> Recovery isn't linear. Dallon and Ryan's story doesn't end here, but this is as far as I've gotten, and I can't tell a story I don't know yet. 
> 
> Who knows, maybe you'll see a "Part one of X series" later at the bottom of the fic. I don't know that yet. No one knows, and that's the thing about life. There's no real answer. It's all about reading between the lines and making your story out however it needs to be written. 
> 
> Side note: Dal, whenever you read this, if I could dedicate a single chapter to a person, I'd send this to you. You're my happy ending.

Ryan knocked on the door. He was a little terrified to be at Dallon’s house, and meet Dallon’s parents. Dallon’s parents had no idea that the two were dating, and Ryan wasn’t going to say anything until Dallon did himself. Ryan knew how things worked. He wasn’t going to be a selfish dumbass and make Dallon come out when he wasn’t interested in telling his parents anything. 

 

No one had answered yet, but Ryan was early for the first time in his life, and so maybe they weren’t home yet. Or maybe Dallon’s mom was like Spencer’s mom, and she was frantically scrubbing everything and yelling at Spencer and his sisters to keep the guests occupied while she made the house spotless. 

 

Ryan smiled, thinking about it. Ryan wasn’t considered a guest at the Smiths’ house anymore. He was just family, and he got to see all the bits of flour and dust that the Smiths’ ignored between guests. 

 

He waited a moment, and then knocked again. Ryan heard someone calling from inside the house, and he straightened his back. He didn’t know if Dallon’s parents would think he was a girl or a guy, but he assumed that Dallon was going to treat him like a guy. Ryan could pass, kind of, now that he’d been on T for a full month and had been only interacting with people who treated him as a guy. 

 

It was nice. He didn’t have to stress about how people would see him, or which bathroom he was supposed to go into. All he had to do was follow Spencer and his dad into the guy’s, and no one looked at him strangely. 

 

The door opened, revealing a middle aged woman that Ryan suspected was Dallon’s mom. She looked down at Ryan. “You must be Ryan! We weren’t expecting you yet, come on in!”

 

“Thanks,” Ryan said, making his voice as gravelly as possible. He was going to have to drink a lot of water this weekend so that he didn’t lose his voice. It hadn’t dropped much yet, but it was cracking all the time. Ryan was slowly beginning to understand why Spencer had complained about guy puberty all the time. Guy puberty was itchy, and hot, and even more annoying in the summer when Ryan still had to wear a binder. It was a miracle he hadn’t sweated out all the water in his body yet. 

 

“Dallon hasn’t told me much about you,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder. “But then again, he doesn’t tell me much about any of his friends. I don’t know why; it’s not like I bite.”

 

“I guess some people like privacy?” Ryan suggested. He was bad around people’s parents. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were different. Ryan had known them since he’d been six. He was used to them. They were more like family members than like parents of his friend. 

 

Dallon’s mom hummed, and Ryan couldn’t tell if it was in agreement, or if she was silently judging Ryan for not backing her up. Ryan didn’t think he needed to back her up. Dallon was a fully grown adult. If he wanted to keep parts of his life from his parents, that was on him. He wasn’t a teenager, or freshly out of high school. Hell, the only reason he was still living with his parents was because he was still looking for an apartment to move into. He was--as far as Ryan could tell--financially independent, and just floating between stages in life. 

 

“Dallon!” she called out into the house, “your friend’s here!”

 

“Coming!” Dallon shouted back. He sounded like he was upstairs. The Weekes’ house was about the same size as Spencer’s, except it was decorated like it was meant to be shown off, not lived in. There were a few pictures of Dallon and his siblings, but they were professional portraits, and graduation pictures. Spencer and his sisters had a collage of the three of them from summer camp, and one of the pictures had Crystal happily showing off the bright green cast she’d acquired after falling off the zipline and hitting a tree. 

 

Spencer’s house felt like a home. Dallon’s felt like a real estate showroom. 

 

Dallon appeared as Ryan and Dallon’s mom entered the kitchen. He looked good, and Ryan wished he could kiss him. Dallon smiled at Ryan, but stayed in the doorway. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Ryan said. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. He’d never met any of his ex’s parents. He didn’t know what was okay and what would get him dumped or kicked out immediately. Everything felt awkward. “So. Um. Where should I put my stuff?”

 

“My room, I guess,” Dallon said. He wasn’t looking at his mom. 

 

She frowned. “I cleaned up the guest room. You two don’t have to share.”

 

“It’s okay,” Ryan said. “I share a room with Spencer at home.”

 

“Is Spencer your…?” Dallon’s mom asked, clearly not sure if she was supposed to call Spencer a girl or a boy. Ryan didn’t know how to answer that either. 

 

“Brother,” Dallon said quickly. “Spencer is Ryan’s younger brother.”

 

“Oh, well,” she said. “That’s nice.”

 

“I’ll take you upstairs?” Dallon offered. Ryan nodded, and the two of them left the kitchen. The longer Ryan was in this house, the more differences he noticed between it and the Smiths’. This house was brighter, prettier, and all the fancy shit was out where people could see it. It was like the Weekes wanted the world to think better of them. 

 

Dallon’s room was mostly bare. There was a queen bed pressed against the corner, and a desk, but most of Dallon’s things were still in boxes. Dallon leaned against the wall and looked around his room. “Sorry. It doesn’t really look like I live here, does it?”

 

“It doesn’t look like anyone lives here,” Ryan said. “You’ve seen Spencer’s house. There’s shit everywhere. Do you even have siblings?”

 

“Three of them,” Dallon said. “Older brother, who’s getting married in the fall, and two younger sisters. The younger one is home for the summer, and the older one is doing a two month long mission trip in Zambia.”

 

“Huh,” Ryan said. He paused. “Wait. Am I the same age as your sisters?”

 

“No, the one in Zambia is the same year as Spencer and Brendon,” Dallon said.

 

Ryan frowned. “Is that weird? That I’m younger?”

 

“Not really,” Dallon said. “I mean, you’re twenty, I’m twenty three, it’s not a big difference.”

 

“Okay, true,” Ryan said. He took a deep breath. “You’re not the oldest person I’ve dated.”

 

Dallon raised his eyebrows. Ryan could tell he wasn’t going to judge him for dating an older guy, but Ryan judged himself for it a little. Spencer had thought it was a bad idea, and maybe it had been, but Ryan’s ex had never been creepy. 

 

“He was… twenty-eight,” Ryan said. “Freshman year of college, he was a grad student in one of my upper level writing classes. We weren’t, like, dating-dating but we were still a thing. It was a pretty stupid thing, but it was never bad, or unhealthy.”

 

“It happens,” Dallon said. He leaned out into the hall and then quickly kissed Ryan. “I like you as is. Unless you’ve, like, killed a puppy or something, I don’t think there’s anything that could change that.”

 

“I would never,” Ryan whispered. He kissed Dallon again, without looking. 

 

The two of them stood in the front of Dallon’s room for a moment, until there was a knock at the door and they both jumped. Ryan turned to see a teenage girl standing in the door. She had on athletic shorts and an oversized t-shirt. She looked like any generic straight girl, and she even had the bleached blonde hair with roots showing to match. 

 

“Hey Arielle,” Dallon said. “This is Ryan.”

 

“Hi,” she said. She looked Ryan up and down. “You’re in college?”

 

“I have a baby face,” Ryan said. Because he did. He was also only a month on T, and so he still looked about fourteen. “I’m probably the only guy in college who still can’t grow a beard.”

 

Arielle raised her eyebrows. She looked similar to Dallon when she did that. “Okay? Anyway, mom said dinner will be in, like, an hour. So you two should probably get your weird English stuff over with and come down before she gets pissed.”

 

“We will,” Dallon said. 

 

“Nice to meet you, by the way,” Arielle said to Ryan. “Dal talks about you all the time. I thought you were one of his roommates at first.”

 

“Nah,” Ryan said. “We’re not like that.”

 

“Okay,” Arielle said. She rolled her eyes again and then closed the door on the two of them. 

 

Ryan turned to Dallon, who looked tense now. Ryan frowned. “You okay?”

 

“My family’s exhausting,” Dallon said. He pulled Ryan in and dropped his head down on Ryan’s shoulder. “It’s bad enough that I majored in English. They keep asking me what I’m doing with my major, and how I’ll ever be able to get married if I’m working in retail and living at home, and it’s… it’s a lot. I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Ryan said. He turned his head to kiss Dallon’s hair, and held onto him for a moment. “And fuck your parents for being more concerned about you getting married than you being happy. That’s shit. Spencer’s parents are your parents now.”

 

Dallon laughed. 

 

Ryan kissed his hair again. “I’m serious. They’re good people. They’d love you like you were their own kid.”

 

“Considering I’m dating their kid, I don’t know if I agree with you on that,” Dallon said. He lifted his head and looked down at Ryan. He looked tired but in love. Ryan smiled, and Dallon smiled back before kissing Ryan’s nose. “Do I have to do the meet the parents thing with Mr. and Mrs. Smith?”

 

“I think you already have,” Ryan said. 

 

“No, I mean… the official kind,” Dallon said. He reached down and took Ryan’s hand in his own. “Because you’re… I want to be serious with you, Ry. I want… I want us to have all the awkward, sweet, gay moments you hear about people having. I want to make you my plus one whenever my friends get married.”

 

“That’s--” Ryan said, and swallowed. Fuck. He wanted that too. He wanted a lot with Dallon, but he didn’t know if it could happen. Ryan took a deep breath. “Dal. I don’t… I don’t know if I believe in real love or soulmates or shit like that.”

 

“That’s okay.”

 

“I don’t know if it is,” Ryan said. “I want to, for you, because I love you a lot… but I don’t know.”

 

He took a deep breath, and shoved down all the thoughts he’d ever had about dying alone like his dad was. “My parents got married because my mom was pregnant with me. Not because they were really in love, or because they wanted to. And then she left when I was four, and my dad never got remarried because he fell in love with alcohol and younger women and I--I don’t want to be like either of them but I don’t know what to do when I’m in love with someone.”

 

“I don’t either,” Dallon said. He rubbed his thumb over Ryan’s cheek. There were a few hairs growing in there, and they were pulled down by Dallon’s thumb. “I think my parents love each other, I really do, but they… there are some people who weren’t meant to have children. My parents had four, and they never treated us like people, only like prizes. Accomplishments. I want to love you the way we were supposed to be loved, not the way we were raised.”

 

Ryan rubbed his eyes. Okay, so he was crying a little. That was fine. It wasn’t like he was standing in his boyfriend’s bedroom while his boyfriend’s family was downstairs and completely unaware of what the two of them were doing. 

 

“Hey,” Dallon said, quieter this time. “Hey, I’m here. I’m with you.”

 

“I know,” Ryan said, just as soft. He looked up at Dallon. His eyes were the colour of the sky at noon, in the middle of the summer. Dallon was perfect, even when he didn’t see himself as such. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Dallon said. 

 

“What if,” Ryan said, and then paused. He didn’t have a job. He had maybe a few hundred dollars in his savings account. He breathed. “What if I got a job. And we got an apartment. What if that?”

 

“Yeah,” Dallon said. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Dallon repeated. He swallowed. “I was… I wanted to. I wanted to ask you, but I didn’t… I didn’t know what you were doing next year and I didn’t want you to feel rushed--”

 

“Dallon, we spent four months being idiots and not rushing,” Ryan said, cutting him off. “I think this is okay.”

 

“What if it doesn’t work?” Dallon asked. “What if we don’t work well together, or can’t live in the same space?”

 

“Then I can help you find a replacement roommate and I can live with Jon,” Ryan said. “He’s looking into off-campus housing anyway. But I don’t think that’ll happen. I think you and I are meant to exist in the same place.”

 

Dallon smiled, and kissed Ryan. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

Ryan kissed him back. The world’s problems were not solved that weekend. Dallon didn’t magically recover, and Ryan didn’t suddenly wake up with enough serotonin to not hate himself. But it was progress, and it wasn improvement, and it was a reminder that not everything was bad in the world. 

 

Ryan didn’t know what the next year of his life would involve. All he knew was that it would involve Dallon, recovery, and a lot less secrets. He finally had someone who understood. That was more than he could have asked for, and it was more than he’d ever dreamed of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys, for reading this. And thanks for reading anything else of mine you may have encountered. 
> 
> You know the drill: comment/kudos if you haven't already, I exist on tumblr @iignarro and on twitter @the_jeffcolins

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed this!


End file.
